


mirror image

by leyxo



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Demonic Possession, Demons, Developing Relationship, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Hurt Brennen Taylor, Hurt Colby Brock, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Paranormal, Protective Elton Castee, Rituals, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-01-11 01:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leyxo/pseuds/leyxo
Summary: The aftermath of the trip to Suicide Forest.Colby doesn't feel the same. Neither does Brennen. The others are just trying to keep anything bad from happening.





	1. Chapter 1

Colby awoke to a bright light shining right in his face.

 _I forgot to pull the blinds_ _down_ _again._

He made a move to turn away from the morning sun, but couldn't. There was a heavy weight on his chest, hindering any type of movement. It was warm and emitted soft breaths. Mint-scented hair tickled his neck.

_I didn't go out last night...?_

Colby raised his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He looked down.

Dark brown hair. A body wider than his own, muscles bulging beneath thin, white fabric. A slight shift gave Colby a glimpse of a sharp jawline and long dark lashes.

_..._

How the fuck did Brennen Taylor get into his bed?

A sudden change in Brennen's breathing made Colby's heart skip a beat. The man stirred and lifted his head. A pair of droopy green eyes looked up at him. Brennen gave a lopsided grin.

“Hey.”

The roughness of Brennen's voice sent a shiver down Colby's spine.

“Uh... hi?” Pause. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“Oh.”

Brennen cleared his throat, sitting up. He pushed his mussed hair out of his eyes. Colby noticed a small bruise peeking out from underneath the collar of his shirt. Brennen casually adjusted it, hiding the mark.

“I was gonna prank you. But I, uh, changed my mind. And I was tired, so... took a nap.” He laughed half-heartedly. “It's probably, like, past noon already. Up for Tender Greens?”

Colby's stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Hunger easily overpowered his confusion.

“Yeah, sure.”

Brennen's face lit up. “Dope.” He climbed out of the bed. “See you downstairs!”

On his way out of Colby's bedroom, he grabbed a vlogging camera that had been sitting on Colby's desk.

_So, he was telling the truth._

In the bathroom, Colby washed his face. Cold water numbed his skin, doing little to lessen the fatigue weighing him down. He dried his face and looked in the mirror.

He raised his hand to touch the dark circles around his eyes. There was dried blood under his fingernails.

 

 

The place was crowded as usual. Colby could barely restrain himself from inhaling the food all at once. The smile he put on for the camera shoved in his face hurt his cheeks. Eventually, Brennen stopped recording to eat. Already finished, Colby leaned forward, supporting his chin with his hand.

Slender hands. Kissable rosy lips. Dark hair that shone golden in sunlight. Bright green eyes capable of charming anyone.

Brennen glanced up from his plate.

“Like what you see?”

_Yes._

Colby nearly started at the thought.

“I would say so, yeah,” he said nevertheless, adding a suggestive tone on purpose.

“Wanna take this somewhere else?” Brennen continued, wiggling his brows.

“Well, I have to repay you for lunch _somehow._ ”

“Oh, in that case...” Brennen trailed off, but burst out laughing a moment after.

His laugh was contagious. Colby joined in.

Soon, they made their way out, side by side, vlogging camera in hand once again to capture whichever stunt Brennen had planned next. In the doorway, Colby accidentally brushed against the other. A sudden surge of warmth made his fingertips buzz. He watched Brennen shiver a second later.

_Weird._


	2. Chapter 2

The only source of light in the garage was the computer screen. Elton, headphones dangling around his neck, looked pale and worn-out.

The door clicked shut.

“What's up?”

Elton kept his eyes on the screen. “Come here.”

Colby shuffled over to the desk and took a seat. Feeling cold, he tucked his fingers into the sleeves of his hoodie. The brightness of the screen hurt his eyes.

Elton was editing. The footage was paused, showing a still of what looked like a dark forest ground.

“This is the Suicide Forest video, right?”

Elton handed him the headphones. “Listen.”

Colby hesitated for a moment before putting the headphones on. Elton played the video forward.

“ _That's a lot of candy,”_ Elton's voice said from behind the camera. _“Jesus Christ, what if it was like their favourite candy?”_

Static. Colby stiffened.

“ _And then, like, they just... That was it.”_

The video paused. Elton glanced at him expectantly.

“Heard it?”

Colby nodded. His mouth was dry. “Did you catch anything else?”

“I haven't gotten farther than this.” Elton frowned. “But I wouldn't be surprised if this happened more than once.”

 

 

Elton ended up pulling him in nine times in total. Even as he was lying in bed later that night, Colby could still hear static in his mind.

_You shouldn't have gone in there._

People had been demanding for the Suicide Forest video ever since Colby and Brennen had posted their own. Elton had been determined to post his Thailand vlogs first, but the pressure was unrelenting. So, he'd made a deal: 20,000 retweets on Twitter and he'd upload the video. Twelve days later, he'd reached the goal.

_Was it worth it?_

The energy he'd got from spending time with Brennen had already subsided. His head felt stuffy. Occasional coughing fits would violently shake his body. His teeth were chattering.

Colby had got sick in Japan. He hadn't been feeling great back home either. Was it normal to be sick for over two weeks now?

_Was it worth it?_

Static crackled in his ears.

 

 

Elton had uploaded the video a week ago. Millions of views had come effortlessly. Colby had watched the video alone, buried in blankets and several layers of clothing. He'd had to put his coffee mug aside at one point because his hands had been shaking too much.

He hadn't slept much that night.

Now, however, Elton had them gathered in the garage to do a reaction video. Elton sat at one end of the couch and Colby at the other, Brennen wedged between them, leaving Jay on a chair behind the three.

Brennen's leg brushed against Colby's. The next breath felt like an inhale of fresh air. Colby's thoughts no longer ran slow, and he could feel blood returning to his freezing toes and fingers. The warmth quickly increased to heat, causing him to roll up his sleeves.

“You good, bro?”

Colby glanced at Brennen.

“Yeah.” He smiled. It didn't hurt his cheeks this time.

Elton started the video.

“Hello, everyone. Uh, so for those who do not know, we went to Japan, Suicide Forest to be precise, and stayed overnight. There's a video out, basically an hour long—”

“Just call it a movie, bro,” Brennen butted in, grinning. “It's a movie.”

“It's a short film,” Elton agreed as they all laughed.

They reacted to the craziest parts of their trip to the forest, including weird audio and the creepiest things they'd found. Colby felt himself becoming lightheaded again, especially after hearing the static completely take over the mike at one point.

Then, they came to 50:15.

“So, right, watch. Watch, right here. Just pay attention to right here, frame by frame. So, right there is a head, two arms. And it's just a—I mean, it's long, black hair, could be a guy—but right there it's a girl slouched over.”

Colby wasn't listening. Elton's voice had become just background noise. His eyes were fixed on the bottom left side of the screen, the hunched figure with long, dark hair. The video was rewound and played forward again. The figure _twitched._ Colby's breath caught in his throat.

_You shouldn't have gone in there._

Nausea. Static in his ears, even though the video was no longer playing.

Luckily, they stopped recording soon after. Colby's fingers hurt from gripping the couch too hard. The others were talking about ordering pizza and filming something for Brennen's vlog in the evening. Colby stood up and rushed out of the room.

“Colby?” Elton called out, but Colby didn't respond.

He stumbled into the bathroom. Pain jolted through his knees as they hit the floor. He clutched at the toilet seat, heaving. A terrible burning sensation assaulted his abdomen, bringing tears to his eyes, and he spewed out his lunch.

“Colby!”

Colby could barely hear Elton's voice over the static in his ears. A hand landed on his shoulder.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm good,” Colby croaked and vomited again.

“Damn, is he okay?”

“Elton, does he need anything?”

“It's probably better to just let him get it out, I think.”

Elton was holding him by the shoulders so that he wouldn't fall face-first into the toilet.

“Get him water.”

Elton pulled him backward as someone knelt down next to him. A hand came to support the back of his head. A glass was placed to his lips. His mind cleared so abruptly he almost choked on the water. Breathing shakily, he took greedy gulps until there was nothing left.

The hand was now resting on the nape of his neck, a thumb drawing soothing circles on the skin. Something in Colby's chest began to hum in response. He opened his eyes.

A pair of brilliant green orbs was looking back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on:
> 
> \- OVERNIGHT AT SUICIDE FOREST (Warning: Incredibly Scary): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdRtkv-NBpY&t=1s  
> \- REACTING TO OVERNIGHT CHALLENGE! (Paranormal Activity Found): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZfnPwp1EP4s


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you _sure_ you're okay?”

Colby folded his arms across his chest. “I said I'm fine, Elton.”

“Well, I'm having a hard time believing you,” Elton retorted, “since you were puking out your guts just a minute ago.”

“Did you eat anything bad last night?” Jay queried.

Colby shook his head. “No, I've been sick since Japan.”

“So, for over two weeks now?”

“Elton...”

“You just said you've been sick for over two weeks. That's not _normal_.”

“A cold can last two weeks,” Colby argued, “it's not that unusual.”

“It can only last that long if treated inappropriately.” Elton's tone was bitter. “You're old enough to know how to take care of yourself.”

“Says the guy who overworks himself all the time.”

Elton pressed his lips together into a thin line. “This isn't about me.”

“Then don't be a hypocrite.”

“Guys,” Jay interrupted the two, “this isn't helping. Colby, for the last time, are you sure you're okay?”

Colby appeared to have a hard time not pulling a face. “Yes.”

“Good. And if your cold gets any worse, you go to the doctor, deal?” Unlike Elton, Jay didn't sound patronizing.

Colby sighed. “Fine.”

“Wonderful,” Elton huffed and left the kitchen.

Jay excused himself a moment later, having an audition to go to. Brennen and Colby were left by themselves.

Silence.

Until, “I think this has something to do with the forest.”

Brennen looked up. He'd been quietly leaning against the wall for the past five minutes of Elton and Colby arguing. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his wrists.

“Remember when I told you weird thoughts would pop up into my mind every day since we went in there?” Colby swallowed. “And I got sick on the same day. I—It was a stupid idea, dude.”

“Sure was,” Brennen agreed.

_Should I tell him?_

“Is stuff still happening at your place?”

Chills ran down Brennen's body as he was reminded of the weight on his chest that he'd woken up to last night. His wrists itched.

_Should I tell him?_

“Brennen?”

Colby was frowning.

“Sorry, I zoned out.” He let out a short laugh, too-dry and forced. “Uh, yeah, it is. But it's not that bad. Just little things.”

Colby didn't seem convinced, but instead of pushing it, he asked, “Do you still need footage for your vlog?”

“Yeah?”

Colby grinned. “Great, let's go do something.”

Brennen blinked, sure that his brain had just short-circuited. How was it possible for someone to go from looking sick to perfectly healthy that quickly?

_You know, you just don't want to admit it._

 

 

There were a lot of dumb things Brennen had done in his life, but this had to be in the top three.

3:27 AM.

Brennen sat at his dining table, facing the camera. An assembly of tealights cast narrow shadows all around him. The other three tall candles he'd picked up from House of Intuition earlier today stood unlit in front of him.

“I'm about to do something _very_ stupid. So, earlier I went to this mystic herbs' shop, where they sell, like, sage and other weird stuff, and I got this candle.” He held up a blue and pink candle that read _Communication_. “It's a communication candle. I stayed up until three in the morning so that I could do this and try to get to the bottom of what's in my house. After I do this, I do have candles that are gonna cleanse my place. And sage and—we'll go from there.”

Brennen lit the candle. A sense of eeriness settled in the room. Kobe was under the table, flush against his leg. Even after everything that had already happened, a part of him still refused to take any of this seriously.

“Is there anything here with us tonight? Anyone wanna communicate with us?”

Kobe shifted. Brennen thought back to the last couple of weeks—to the moved furniture, weird dreams, things in his peripheral vision that he wouldn't see whenever he looked again. Colby's phone call had been a while ago, but he could still remember every word.

“If anyone wants to communicate with us, please let us hear that you're here. I'm contacting you 'cause I need you to stop harassing me and doing weird stuff. So, please show me a sign that you're here.”

There was a moment of silence before a loud shatter cut through the air. Kobe let out a frightened bark as Brennen jumped to his feet.

“What the fuck was that?”

Camera in hand, Brennen entered the kitchen. He switched on the light and stared at the pieces of glass scattered over the ground. How could a glass fall out of his sink onto the floor?

“So, I had these glasses on this table over here in my sink, right here, and one just broke,” he told the camera. “Holy fuck.”

Brennen decided to retreat from the scene while he still had the courage—or the stupidity—to do this. His heart racing, he set the camera back up and sat down.

“I don't understand why you're doing this, okay? Is there something that you're trying to tell me? Is there a sign that you're trying to give? Please help me understand because I don't get it.” His palms were sweating. “Are you mad? What's going on? Something talk to me!”

The painting behind him came down with a loud thud. Kobe yelped and scurried away, claws clattering on the floor. Brennen's breath caught in his throat. Dizzy from standing up too quickly, he stumbled away from the table, all the while gaping at the painting. He picked up the camera again.

“Come here, Kobe,” he said weakly. “So, the whole fucking thing just came off right now. The whole painting just came off the wall.”

It was getting difficult to breathe. Brennen's feet seemed to move on their own, leading him back to the table. The flame of the communication candle flared.

“Why are you fucking with me, okay?” he shouted, voice trembling. “Was it the coin in Japan? I'm sorry I lost the coin, just please leave me alone! I'm done communicating with you!”

He blew out the candle, then grabbed the two other candles— _Purify_ and _Bad Spirit Remover—_ and lit them. As he moved to stand up, both of the candles went out by themselves and flew off the table, the glass containers shattering into pieces. The communication candle, however, was upright and alight again.

“No way, no fucking way!” Brennen yelled. “No, I'm getting the fuck outta here, holy fu—”

Something _pushed_ him off his chair before he could fully stand up. He tripped over his legs and landed flat on his back. The wind was completely knocked out of him. Stars danced in his vision.

Brennen coughed. “What the—”

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. It felt as though a rope had closed around his neck, becoming tighter and tighter by the second. He tried to lift his arms, legs, head— _anything_ —but a heavy weight was forcing his whole body down, leaving him utterly powerless.

His insides were constricting from the pain—from the _burn_ —his heart pounding in his throat, ready to burst out through his mouth. Tears were dripping from the corners of his eyes. He was screaming in his head yet unable to emit any intelligible sound. Kobe's howling rang in his ears.

_You are not done._

Then, the pressure disappeared altogether. Brennen's back arched, his breath rasping in his throat. He managed to turn over before he could've choked on his own vomit. Spluttering bile on the floor, he flinched when something wet bumped against his cheek, but it was only a whining Kobe.

At some point, the big studio light had turned off, leaving the room in complete darkness, save for a couple of tealights still flickering weakly. From what Brennen could gather, the camera was still set up and recording.

_You are not done._

Right now, Brennen was too weak to do anything. He simply held onto his dog, who kept licking at his tear- and vomit-stained face.

What the hell was he going to do now?


	4. Chapter 4

Colby bolted upright in his bed with a gasp. Sweat was dripping down his temples and lower back. His chest felt tight.

Brennen's face flashed through his mind.

Colby grabbed his phone and dialed the familiar number.

“ _Hey, it's Bren—“_

4:01 AM.

_He's probably sleeping._

Colby texted him.

 

 

**BRENNEN**

**Text Message**

**Today 4:02 AM**

 

 

 _dude_ _u_ _okay?_

 

 

Three tortuous minutes dragged by until his phone vibrated.

 

 

_dude u okay?_

**Read 4:04 AM**

_ya why_

_i need to call u_

_its 4 am bro_

_im coming over_

_what why_

 

 

Without replying, Colby scrambled out of bed. Five minutes later, he was already speeding in the direction of Brennen's house. Even though there was barely any traffic, Colby still felt he wasn't going fast enough.

Was he overstepping boundaries? Maybe. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

Eventually, Brennen's house came into view. He narrowly avoided hitting a fence while parking, but wasted no time in jumping out of his car and sprinting up to Brennen's door. He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened.

It felt as though a bucket of icy water had been dumped over his head.

“Brennen?” he asked weakly.

Brennen Taylor was an unstoppable force of energy, one of the liveliest people Colby knew. The Brennen standing in the doorway, however, was sunken in upon himself. Without their usual sparkle, his eyes were just two empty pools of black. There seemed to be something wrong with his neck, but it was too dark to tell.

“I heard you coming up,” Brennen whispered, rubbing his throat.

Colby hesitated for a moment. “Can I come in?”

Brennen nodded and stepped aside. The door clicked shut. Colby turned around and was nearly thrown off balance by a body that had slammed into his chest and coiled its arms tightly around him.

“Brennen?”

Brennen was shaking like a leaf. Wetness touched Colby's neck.

Colby wrapped his arms around the other. An ache crept inside his chest, growing as Brennen continued to sniffle and drop more tears into the crook of his neck. Standing in the darkness of the hallway, holding Brennen close to him with one hand clutching the damp fabric of his shirt, Colby couldn't help but to feel bewildered by the surrealness of it—this moment of unexpected, frankly unfamiliar moment of intimacy.

“Colby.”

He started. Brennen's voice sounded worn-out, almost gravelly.

“Yeah?”

“Stay. Please.”

The meekness of the plea punched Colby in the gut.

“Of course.”

Brennen sighed, sagging against his chest. Colby adjusted his hold and picked the man up as gently as he could. Ignoring the burn in his arms, he carried Brennen all the way to his bedroom. He carefully lowered him onto the bed and lay down next to him. Brennen nestled himself into his side.

Colby drifted off not much later, feeling warm.

 

 

Colby woke up to a nonstop buzzing right against his leg. With his eyes still half-closed, he picked up the phone.

“Hm?”

“ _Bro,_ _where are you?”_

“Sam?”

“ _Yeah, it's me. I've called you, like, at least ten times now.”_

“Oh.”

“ _Where are you?”_

“I'm... I'm at Brennen's.”

“ _Oh. Okay. Well, uh, I'll tell Elton you're fine then.”_

_Elton?_

“Uh, thanks?”

“ _Yeah. See you later.”_

Before Colby could ask any other questions—like why the hell Elton was looking for him at ten in the morning—Sam hung up. He stared at the phone screen for a moment longer, bemused, then dropped it aside, supposing he would find out soon enough anyway. With a yawn, he stretched as much as he could without disturbing Brennen. The man was out cold, his cheek squished against Colby's chest and one of his arms draped over his midsection.

Colby's eyes trailed down. His breath hitched.

Angry red marks, akin to handprints, stained Brennen's neck.

_What the hell?_

Suddenly, there was a muffled groan, promptly followed by a spasmodic cough. Retracting his arm, Brennen rolled over and leaned over the edge of the bed, emitting another cough that shook his whole body.

“Brennen?”

“'m fine,” the other wheezed in response.

Eventually, Brennen turned around to face Colby, who had sat up in alarm. Dark circles bruised his eyes. The marks stretched over the whole front and side of his neck.

“Who did this to you?” Colby asked, unable to keep the tremble from his voice.

Brennen didn't meet his gaze. Almost inaudibly, he replied, “I'll show you.”

Colby didn't understand. He didn't understand until Brennen gave him his camera and played back the footage of last night. He couldn't tear his eyes away, even as he watched Brennen be pulled off-screen by _something_ , even as he heard Brennen's gurgling and Kobe's whining in the background of a black screen. By the end, he could barely hold the camera. Brennen took it from his hands and placed it on the table.

“This is not normal,” Colby muttered to himself. He turned to the other. “You need to go to the hospital.”

Brennen shook his head. “No.”

“Brennen, that fucking thing—” Colby faltered, his mind still reeling from what he'd seen, “It fucking _strangled_ you. You can barely speak. What if this does permanent damage? You _need_ to go to the hospital.”

Brennen gave a wry smile. “You sound like Elton.”

Colby huffed. “He'd agree with me if he was here.”

“You're forgetting how fucking much healthcare costs here, dude,” Brennen argued. “And how do you think I'm gonna explain this?”

“It doesn—”

“Bro,” Brennen cut him off, “I'll be _fine_. You don't have to worry about me.”

“I'm not worried about you,” Colby lied, folding his arms across his chest.

Brennen rolled his eyes. “Good.”

Silence. They looked at each other. The defensiveness in Brennen's eyes chipped away.

“I can't stay here,” he whispered.

“You can stay with us,” Colby said instantly.

“Are you—”

“Yeah, I'm sure.” Colby took a deep breath. “You're obviously not safe here.”


	5. Chapter 5

It took a couple of hours until they finally got back to the mansion. Colby pulled up in the driveway, switched off the engine and turned to look at Brennen. The collar of his hoodie was bunched around his neck to cover up the redness. Colby's mouth twitched.

Brennen glanced sideways. “What are you laughing at?”

“You look ridiculous.”

Brennen let out a small chuckle. “Thanks, bro.” He bit his lip. “Do you think Kobe—”

“He'll be okay. He's with your mom, isn't he?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she—”

“No.” Brennen frowned. “At least I don't think so. But she probably knows something's up. She's a smart woman.”

“Would she believe you?”

“Well, she's the one always telling me to cut that kinda shit.” Brennen paused, casting his eyes down. “She'd believe me. But I don't wanna tell her, ya know? It'd just... It doesn't matter. We'll fix this. Somehow.”

Brennen lifted his head again, meeting Colby's eyes. There was a hopeful glint in them.

“Somehow,” Colby agreed.

A waft of cold air brushed against his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

They bumped into Sam at the front door. He looked well put together as usual.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Colby and Brennen replied simultaneously.

Sam gave them a once-over. Colby realized both of them must've looked terrible—sleep-deprived, sickly and stressed over everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Sam's eyebrows rose. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Colby scratched the back of his neck.

Sam looked at him pointedly, but didn't press on the subject. “Alrighty then.” He went past them, but turned around by his car. “You might wanna be ready to give Elton an explanation, though.”

Colby sighed. “Should I be worried?”

Sam shrugged, getting into the vehicle. “Nah. It's just Elton being Elton.”

“Okay, thanks dude!” Colby called out before Sam left.

“Why am I getting the feeling I'm fifteen again?” he muttered under his breath as they entered the house.

Circa rounded the corner and came to greet them, claws click-clacking on the floor. Colby bowed down to scratch her behind the ears.

“Hey, Circa,” he said fondly.

“Hello, Colby.”

Colby looked up to see Elton leaning against the wall ten feet away, arms crossed over his chest and jaw clenched.

“Hey, Elton.”

Colby wasn't nervous. He could hear Brennen shuffling his feet behind him.

“Why on Earth would you leave in the middle of the night, Colby?” Elton's voice was strained.

“I was at Brennen's.”

“That wasn't my fucking question,” Elton snapped.

Colby inhaled sharply. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because I can _see_ there's something you're not telling me. Something you're not telling any of us.”

Colby shook his head. “If this is about me being sick...”

“No, this isn't about you being sick, Colby,” Elton scoffed. “This is about your weird-ass behavior lately.”

Colby's mind went blank.

“What do you mean?”

Elton huffed. “You know I stay up late, Colby. So does Aaron. We can _hear_ you leaving the house in the middle of the night and coming back a few hours later.”

As far as he knew, Colby spent his nights sleeping, not roaming about. His heart rate increased and palms warmed up.

“I like going for a night drive, so?” he lied.

Elton narrowed his eyes. “You like going for a night drive? Really?”

“Yeah, that's what I said.” Colby was becoming impatient. “Look, Elton, I honestly don't get why you're making such a big deal out of this, but I'm–”

“You're being really quiet,” Elton cut him off. His blazing eyes were now directed at Brennen. “Is that because he's at your place at that time?”

“No,” Brennen said quickly. “I'm just—” He broke into a cough.

“Elton...” Colby looked at Brennen in alarm.

“Too busy fucking him?”

Brennen seemed to choke on his own saliva. He was gripping his throat, face flushed. He looked absolutely mortified. Colby's attention snapped back to Elton.

“Elton! Don't bring–” He lost his breath for a moment. Heat curled in his stomach. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What?” Elton asked innocently. “There wouldn't be anything _wrong_ with that.”

“That-that's not the fucking point!” Colby felt his composure crumbling. “Are you _trying_ to get some kind of reaction out of me? Are you filming this?”

Elton snickered. “No. I mean, you never get this angry... But I am curious, _are_ you two fucking?”

“What? No!”

“Then why are you so riled up?” Elton was sporting a shit-eating grin.

Colby's fingers cracked as he clenched his fists. “'Cause you're the one riling me up, dude!”

Elton eyed him for a second longer before snorting. “Alright, Colby. Do whatever you want, I guess, I don't care.”

Colby watched in disbelief as Elton exited the hall without another word. Circa trailed after him. The door leading to the garage closed audibly.

Anger. White-hot in his gut, it was shaking him inwardly and urging him to go after Elton. He wanted to punch that grin, that goddamn smugness off his face. He wanted to—

“Colby.”

A hand touched his shoulder. Instantly, calmness returned to his body. He uncurled his fists and winced at the sting in his palms. His heart gradually slowed down.

Colby turned to Brennen. The collar of Brennen's hoodie had loosened, revealing the ugly marks underneath. Instinctively, Colby raised his hand to lightly trace over the bruise right under Brennen's jaw. Brennen's breath hitched. Uncertainty flashed in his green eyes.

_But I am curious, are you two fucking?_

“Colby?” Brennen's voice was still hoarse.

_There wouldn't be anything wrong with that._

Brennen's pupils were dilated. The tips of Colby's fingers tucked themselves under the collar. They tingled from anticipation, from the wish to tug Brennen just a tiny bit closer. His body started to feel hot again. A strange numbness lurked in the corners of his mind. He found himself wondering what Brennen's breath tasted like. His eyes fell on the other's lips.

_We can hear you leaving the house in the middle of the night and coming back a few hours later._

Colby snapped back to reality. He immediately pulled away as though he'd been burned. Turning away from Brennen, he rubbed his face.

_What was going on with him?_


	6. Chapter 6

Brennen wasn't one to sit around. He was used to hustling, running from one place to another with a camera in his hand. Lying in bed and twiddling his thumbs unsettled him.

He got up, taking his camera. Colby, who was editing, looked over his shoulder.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I'm just getting something to eat, is that cool?”

“Yeah, of course, go ahead.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Brennen went downstairs, but headed past the kitchen into the garage, where he knew Elton would be. Sure enough, the man was hunched in front of his computer with Circa curled around his legs. Elton briefly glanced at Brennen before looking back at the screen again.

“You're vlogging?”

“Nah,” Brennen replied, looking down. “I can't.”

“What do you mean?” Pausing the video he was editing, Elton fully turned in his chair to face him. “You sound weird. You're sick, too?”

“Not exactly.”

He stepped into the light, undoing the collar of his hoodie. Elton's eyes zeroed in on his neck. His brows drew together.

“Brennen, what's that?”

“Well, if I explained, you probably wouldn't believe me.” Brennen went over to the other man and gave him the camera. “So, uh, it's easier to just show you.”

Elton watched back last night's footage, the same Brennen had shown Colby earlier today. Brennen turned away, repressing the urge to cough, when he heard himself falling and choking. After the video had ended, Elton silently gave the camera back to him. His face was expressionless.

“Something followed us back from the forest, bro,” Brennen voiced the thought that had been circling in his mind for a couple of hours now. His voice was barely audible.

“Ghosts are attached to places and Ouija boards, aren't they?” Elton didn't meet his eyes. “You destroyed the board in Japan.”

“But I lost the coin,” Brennen reminded him. He took a deep breath before adding: “I think it's affecting Colby, too.”

“Why's that?” Elton hummed, turning back to his computer.

“Well, he played the Ouija board with me and got sick... And you said he's been leaving the house every night, don't you think—Elton, are you even listening?” Brennen hissed.

Elton had resumed editing. Sighing, he paused the video once again to focus on Brennen.

“I made that up.”

Brennen blinked. “What?”

“He doesn't leave the house every night,” Elton explained patiently. “I made that up to mess with him.”

“But that doesn't make sense, you—” Brennen's mouth snapped shut. He stared at Elton for a moment before concluding: “You're still mad at him, that's why you're acting like this.”

Elton chuckled lightly. “I'm not mad at Colby, he's twenty years old and can do whatever he wants. And your video...” He didn't finish his sentence, but Brennen understood anyway.

“You think it's fake.”

“A lot of things on Youtube are fake, honey.” Elton's smile was condescending.

“Why would I lie about something like this? I wouldn't be showing you the video, if it was fake, Elton.” He'd started wheezing. “And this?” he added, referring to his neck and voice, which cracked from the exertion. “This isn't real either?”

Elton raised a brow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Brennen could only mouth wordlessly.

Elton's laugh followed him on his way out of the garage. It kept ringing in his ears even as he put the camera on the kitchen countertop and left the house without it.

 

 

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Brennen concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. He'd switched off his phone. Every street, every person looked the same.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

The collar of his hoodie hung untied. His throat felt like sandpaper. It hurt to breathe.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

He stumbled. What if he ran into someone he knew or one of his fans?

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Elton didn't believe him. If Elton didn't believe him, then why would anyone else believe him?

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Colby believed him. Why was it always Colby?

_One. Two. Three. Four._

This morning, Colby had clung to him as though he were his life force. Colby's all-encompassing warmth had given Brennen a momentary illusion of security.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Why had Colby come to his house at four in the morning? Had he known? Somehow?

_One. Two. Three. Four._

A memory lingered at the back of his mind. A late-night phone call, about two weeks ago. Brennen remembered listening to Colby's panicked voice on the other end of the line. After that, everything else was a blank until next morning, when he'd woken up in Colby's bed with scratched wrists and a potential hickey on his neck.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Brennen had thought reaching out would help. He had no idea what was going on in his apartment and if it had anything to do with Colby acting strange. Sleep-deprived and beyond confused, he was barely capable of thinking clearly, let alone figuring all of this out on his own.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

Whenever he was around Colby, he would feel awfully lightheaded. Yet a single look into the guy's bright blue eyes had the power to erase his unease every time.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

“Brennen? Brennen!”

_One. Tw—_ _T_ _wo._

Brennen turned around. He was in front of some Mexican restaurant. He didn't recognize the street he was on. However, he did recognize Bradlee Wannemacher, who had just exited said Mexican restaurant and was walking toward him.

Brennen's throat constricted. He couldn't catch his breath.

_I made that up._

He was no longer seeing the street, but a tunnel. Bradlee was at the end of the tunnel, surrounded by flashing lights.

_He doesn't leave the house every night._

Bradlee was still coming closer and saying something, but Brennen couldn't hear him. His ears started to buzz. The heat was unbearable. People kept bumping into him.

_I made that up to mess with him._

Was the ground moving or him?

_But that doesn't make sense._

Brennen's knees wobbled before giving out. A sharp pain shot through his head. He was now sideways.

_Did Elton lie?_

Everything went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

“... okay?”

“... need ... help?”

“... room!”

Brennen opened his eyes. A familiar face, riddled with concern, looming over him. Traffic. Talking, lots of people talking. His head throbbed.

“Bradlee?” he croaked.

Bradlee's pale blue eyes closed briefly. He let out a sigh.

“Thank God, Brennen. Do you know where you are?”

Brennen strained his memory.

“L.A.?”

“Yeah. Okay.” There was a slight tremor in Bradlee's voice. “Which street?”

“I—”

A violent cough tore from his throat. He was promptly turned on his side. Spots danced on the feet right in front of his face. Breathing was making his head spin.

“Dunno,” he groaned.

“... drunk?”

“... high ...?”

“Brennen, stay with me!”

His eyes were closing again. The grip on his arm was painfully tight.

“Mmhm...”

“ _9_ _1_ _1, what's your emergency?”_

 

Rubbing his eyes, Colby leaned back in his chair. The video, a reaction video with Brennen to their first musical.lys, was finally uploading. He looked over his shoulder.

“Yo, do you wanna—”

His stomach dropped.

_Yeah, I'm just getting something to eat, is that cool?_

“Brennen?” Colby called out, already rushing downstairs.

_Yeah, of course, go ahead._

“Brennen!”

The kitchen was empty except for the lone vlogging camera sitting on the countertop.

“ _The number you are dialing is currently switched o_ _—_ _”_

Colby huffed and threw his phone across the countertop. A door opened and closed. Colby whipped around to see Elton entering the kitchen.

“Have you seen Brennen?” he demanded.

“He's not with you?” Elton asked, walking past him.

“No.” Colby's jaw clenched. “That's why I'm asking.”

Elton shrugged. “Dunno, maybe he left.”

“His phone is turned off.”

“So?” Elton opened a cabinet and took out a few boxes. “I'm sure he's fine.”

Burying his hands in his hair, Colby started pacing back and forth. The pain from twisting his curls did little to nothing to calm him. The muscles in his chest twitched.

 _He doesn't_ _understand._

“You don't understand.”

“Don't understand what?” Elton sounded almost bored.

_He can't leave me._

The twitching continued. Colby rubbed his chest to ease the discomfort, but it wouldn't stop. He hunched over and swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

_I need him._

“I _need_ to know,” he said through gritted teeth, “where he is.”

Elton scoffed. “You're definitely overreacting.”

 _He's_ _hiding something_ _._

Colby looked up. His whole body went rigid. The corners of his vision darkened. His ears were buzzing.

“Elton, I know you're hiding something,” Colby growled.

Elton's shoulders tensed. Finally, he turned around slowly and regarded Colby with something akin to apprehension.

“What?”

Suddenly, Colby felt his body loosening up again as though an imaginary string, pulled taut inside him, had been cut. Weak at the knees, he sank forward.

“Colby!”

_Brennen? Brennen!_

A pair of strong arms caught him and he slumped into them.

“Colby, c'mon, don't pass out on me.”

Colby closed his eyes, then opened them again. He no longer saw the kitchen. Flat on his back, he was now looking at tall trees and shimmering green leaves. A piece of bright pink tape dangled around the trunk of the tree closest to him.

_Get out._

Strange cracks scattered across Colby's vision as though he'd been looking at the scene through glass. The picture then shattered without a sound. The ground beneath him disappeared. The air was sucked out of him as he fell into nothingness, unable to grasp onto anything to save himself. He kept falling for what seemed like an eternity until a sharp pain lanced his head.

All of a sudden, everything was different. There was light. Warmth. A familiar smell. He was on the floor, sitting upright in someone's arms. Were they the same arms that had caught him before?

But when was before? Had it been a minute... or a whole year? Colby wasn't sure.

“Colby?”

He opened his eyes. It took him a moment to focus, but recognizing Elton's face, relief washed over him like a waft of cold fresh air. He offered the man what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

_I need him._

Colby yelped. He doubled over as an abrupt pain stabbed his abdomen. One of his hands seized Elton's arm and the other curled around his stomach. He wanted to throw up.

“Colby, what's wrong?”

_I need him._

He'd never heard Elton sound so distressed.

_Find him._

“E—Elton... You need to find Brennen.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Hellerrr—”

“ _Brennen?”_

“Yeah? ... Colby, something wrong?”

“ _Yeah—I mean—uh, no, everything's great, um...”_

“Hey, slow down, bro. What's going on?”

“ _It's just that, um... ... Fuck, dude, I can't—I d—don't know...”_

“Where are you?”

…

“Colby?”

“ _Uh, I'm on a bridge. ... I think– I think it's the suicide bridge. Yeah, it's the suicide bridge.”_

“What the _fuck_ are you doing on the suicide bridge? ... Is this a prank, bro?”

“ _N—no! No, it's not a prank, dude, I swear it's not! ... Can you—can you come pick me up?”_

“Why don't you just get an Uber? What the hell are you doing there without your car anyway? Wait, are you _alone_?”

“ _Brennen,_ please. _”_

“... Okay. Okay, Colby, give me—dunno, just stay put, okay? I'm gonna come pick you up.”

“ _Okay.”_

 

“You lost consciousness likely due to dehydration,” the ambulance worker, a kind-looking man in his late thirties, said. “Your condition isn't critical nor do you seem to have a concussion, but I suggest following up with your regular doctor to run additional tests just in case. Make sure you drink a lot of water and rest.” He looked past him. “Will you drive him home?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Bradlee replied.

The man gave a curt nod. “Good. Sign here and you're free to go.”

“You still look out of it,” Bradlee pointed out as they were walking toward his car after the ambulance had driven away.

Brennen gulped water out of the bottle the paramedic had given him.

“I feel fine.”

Bradlee scoffed. “Sure. You just passed out on the street and almost cracked your head open.” He sighed. “Do you even remember what happened?”

_Not really._

Brennen tilted his head back as they walked, closing his eyes. It was a hot sunny day. A gentle breeze tousled his hair. The air smelled of coffee and spices. Strangely enough, he did feel fine. Hell, he felt _great_.

“Brennen?”

He opened his eyes to look at Bradlee. The other was frowning at him.

“Sorry.” Brennen chuckled. “I zoned out. I, uh, remember walking. There was something on my mind—”

_Flaming._

_Shattering._

_Falling._

_Choking._

_I_ _m_ _ade that up to_ _m_ _ess with hi_ _m._

“—and I guess I just wasn't paying attention.” Brennen shrugged. “Been running on little sleep and caffeine recently. Gotta stay on that Youtube grind, ya know. Shit happens, I guess.” He threw Bradlee a wide grin. “Thanks for helping me out, though, bro, I appreciate it.”

Bradlee didn't look entirely convinced; he offered a small smile in return anyway. “Anytime.” Pause. “Were you doing something for a vlog, then?”

“No, I—”

His vlogging camera was still at the mansion.

He hadn't told Colby he was leaving.

His phone was still turned off.

_Shit._

Brennen fished his phone out of his pocket, switched it on.

 

**Colby**

**Missed Call** **  
**

**Elton**

**Missed Call (5)**

 

“Hey, bro? Can you take me to Elton's?”

They'd made it to the car. Bradlee gave him a bewildered look over the roof.

“I'm supposed to drive you home, Brennen.”

“I know, I just left some of my stuff there.”

Bradlee eyed him for a moment longer before huffing. “Fine. Get in the car.”

 

 

 _**Colby**_ _ **✓** _ _**@ColbyBrock** _ _**·** _ _**29 Jul 2017** _

_I've been having these weird flashbacks and memories of the forest .._

_Really strange_

 

 

His forehead was cold. And wet.

Something brushed against his face. A hand?

“Colby? You awake, man?”

The voice was familiar, yet he couldn't quite place it.

“I just got a call from Brennen. He's on his way.”

Brennen... _Brennen._

Something swam up from the murky depths of his mind. It was a guy's face. In his early twenties? Tan skin. Dark hair. Brown—no, green eyes.

A light weight was placed on his forehead. Wet. Cold. A... washcloth? Yeah, it felt like fabric.

“Colby?”

He should... open his eyes. Someone was saying Colby—his name?—he should wake up. Was he sleeping, though? Everything was fuzzy and confusing, yet it didn't feel like a dream. He was in some sort of limbo, in an in-between, not sure which way was up.

“Colby?”

This time, he latched onto the voice, let it guide him upwards through the darkness. A speck of light began to glint up ahead, increasing in size as he got closer to it. Eventually, it became a window big enough for him to stick his hand through it and pull himself—

A flash of white light. A single pink ribbon floating past him.

—out.

He opened his eyes—

_Shit._

—and closed them again immediately. It was fucking bright.

A sharp intake of breath, not his own, prompted him to try again. He cracked his eyes open. A figure was looming over him. Their face was blurry, distorted. He blinked once, twice, three times; the face became clearer, eventually morphing into one he thought he recognized. A guy with dark hair and green eyes. But not the face he'd seen before, no, this one was bearded, seemed a bit older, paler, more worried... or exasperated—

_Elton._

“Yeah,” Elton's deep voice confirmed, “it's me.”

He—Colby—turned his head slightly to look around. He realized he was lying on the couch in the living room of their house. Bright sunlight was making his eyes water. Despite the washcloth cooling his forehead, he was burning inside out from the heat.

“What happened?” His voice was rough, breaking at the end of the question.

“We were in the kitchen, talking. You collapsed. You also have a _fever_.” Elton paused, removing the cloth. “You asked me to find Brennen. I got a hold of him. He should be here soon.”

The _why?_ lingered unspoken in the air. Colby looked away, avoiding Elton's pointed gaze. His mind was still too muddled to fully comprehend what had happened shortly before he'd collapsed. The images were returning to him in flashes, one more puzzling than the next.

He remembered seeing a forest. Seeing pink tape around one of the trees. Feeling the pain in his stomach after he'd snapped out of it.

Snapped out of _what_? Some sort of vision? Hallucination?

The back of Colby's head started to pulse in pain. He grimaced.

“What's wrong?” Elton asked straightaway.

“It's nothing.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Just a headache.”

“I'll get you some Tylenol.”

Colby mumbled a 'thanks' as Elton stood up to get the medicine.

_He can't know._

What?

_He wouldn't understand._

The pain spiked abruptly, now radiating from his head to his neck and jaw. Colby groaned, curling up and hiding his face in a cushion. His stomach churned.

_You only need him._

A hand touched his shoulder.

“Colby? You okay, dude?”

_You have to go back._

“Fucking _hurts_.”

Elton succeeded in convincing Colby to sit up a little to take the Tylenol and drink some water. He choked a little; his throat felt like sandpaper. He sighed in relief, when Elton placed the newly soaked washcloth back over his forehead. The cold water slightly eased the heat bubbling just underneath his skin.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. The cold... helps.”

Elton was quiet for a moment. “Do you feel sick?”

“Wha—” Abruptly, the air left Colby's lungs; he gasped for breath. “What d'you mean?”

“Do you feel like throwing up?”

Elton's voice grew fainter with each word.

“N—No...”

Colby felt himself fading. A heavy weight was pulling him down by the ankles, back into the darkness.

“I feel... fine.”

Static.

“Colby?”

Something urged him to remain conscious. He reached toward the window of light, but watched it shrink as he sank deeper into the murky depths of his mind. The static grew louder.

“Col—”

He blinked.

He was... on a bridge.

He looked around. The bridge basked in the tangerine glow of the sun setting behind him. There wasn't a single sound—no traffic, no people, not even wind. The air smelled cold; not crisp like in a winter morning, but wet and rank. As though something was rotting.

_You know what you have to do._

The entire bridge span was covered by at least eight foot tall barrier fences. The trees and houses on either side of the bridge stood quiet in the receding sunlight.

_You've failed more than once already._

His feet carried him to the barriers. There was a hole in the fencing, big enough for him to slip through and climb over the balustrade. He was now teetering on the narrow ledge on the other side of it, looking down at the barely visible ground 150 feet below him.

_There's no other way._

Numb. His arms, his legs—numb. Heart racing in his throat. Knees wobbling. One foot hovering in the air.

_Set us free._

He jumped.

Someone screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your support on this story so far, it means a lot to me!! the wait for the next chapter might be a bit longer, though, but don't worry, it will be up soon enough ;) (hopefully haha)


	9. Chapter 9

_**Elton Castee ✓ @EltonCastee · 13 Aug 2017** _

_I highly suggest not watching the Suicide Forest video at night or alone._

|

_**Elton Castee ✓ @EltonCastee · 13 Aug 2017** _

_I had to make Colby come sit with me while I edited some of it because it made no sense what happened. Neither of us can explain. Weird af_

|

_**Marina @Mdog602 · 13 Aug 2017** _

_Whenever I watch a scary video I get scared but what scares me the most is that Uncle Elton is scared and uncle elty dont get scared!_

|

_**Elton Castee ✓ @EltonCastee · 13 Aug 2017** _

_I'm actually doing research on paranormal activity signs to figure out what happened & see if it matches up w/ our video_

|

_**Marina @Mdog602 · 13 Aug 2017** _

_Well whatever comes up you need to post it!_

 

 

Elton's fingers stopped typing on the keyboard mid-sentence. Straightening up in his chair, he listened.

Someone was moving around in the house.

4:10 AM.

Aaron was probably still up playing video games and just getting—

The front door slammed shut. A car was started; it drove away.

—something to eat.

 _Huh_.

About an hour went by. Caught up in editing and SEND IT deliveries, Elton completely missed the car driving into the driveway and nearly didn't hear the front door closing again.

He turned away from the screen, listening.

The mystery person headed straight upstairs. He heard another door—presumably one of a bedroom—shut.

 _Huh,_ Elton thought to himself again and resumed editing.

The second time it happened, he paid no mind to it.

The third time, he figured it was strange, but none of his business.

The fourth time, he went outside to investigate.

Every car was present except a 2007 red Toyota Corolla.

 

 

“Fucking finally. Where are you?”

“ _I'm on my way to your place. Is something wrong?”_

“... It's Colby.”

“ _What? What's wrong with him? Did something happen?”_

“He—I'll explain when you get here.”

“ _Ok—”_

 

 

Colby was curled up on the couch, out cold again, his eyes moving under the lids. The flush on his cheeks stood in stark contrast to the rest of his pale skin. Elton removed the washcloth from his forehead to soak it in lukewarm water once more.

It was something his mother had taught him years ago, when he'd still been living back home in Connecticut. She'd been taking care of his father, who had got the flu.

_Lukewarm water, Elton, not cold, otherwise you might make it worse._

_The cold helps._

He wrung the excess water out of the cloth before placing it back over Colby's forehead. Brushing some of the damp curls out of his friend's face, he grazed uncovered skin. It was hot enough to burn.

Colby had told—no, _pro_ _m_ _ised_ —Jay that he would go to a doctor if the cold didn't go away. Yet here he was, running a high fever, while Elton was waiting not for an ambulance, but for Brennen Taylor of all people. The only reason he hadn't already driven Colby to the hospital himself was the way he'd asked Elton to find Brennen. The image of Colby crumpled in his arms, his mouth twisted into something grotesque between a smile and a grimace of pain, was certainly going to haunt him for a while.

There was an indistinct mumble.

For a moment, Elton thought he'd imagined it. But Colby, still asleep, furrowed his brows and let out another muffled sound.

“Colby?”

The other groaned, lurching forward. The washcloth dropped onto the floor with a _splat_. With one hand, Elton managed to shove the bowl he'd brought earlier under Colby's face, and with the other, catch him from falling face-first off the couch. Colby inhaled sharply before heaving into the bowl.

Colby's shirt was drenched in sweat. Elton nearly flinched at the scalding heat of the skin beneath. The momentary shock was quickly overpowered by annoyance; it appeared Colby was spitting up more bile than anything else, which meant he hadn't eaten in fuck knows how long—

Suddenly, Colby gasped and dissolved into a coughing fit, having likely choked on his own saliva. Presuming he was done throwing up for now, Elton put the bowl aside and helped the other into a sitting position. It took a minute for his breathing to even out. His eyes were still closed, his head hanging.

“Colby?”

He received a mumble in response.

“Come again?”

“I know,” Colby's speech was slurred, barely comprehensible, “what I have to do.”

Elton blinked. “What do you have to do?”

“I—I've failed more than once already,” Colby continued, sinking against him, “I have to—” He groaned, thumped his head on Elton's shoulder.

With some difficulty, Elton repositioned them so that he was now fully seated on the couch, holding Colby against his chest. He felt sweat collecting between his shoulder blades. Come to think of it, cuddling might not have been the brightest idea, considering Colby was as hot as a furnace at this point.

“There's...” Colby's voice grew weaker, “no other... way...”

The sweat trickling down Elton's back felt cold, the shiver going down his spine like a shot of electricity. He looked down at Colby, at his trembling form, at the arm curled around his stomach; heard his breaths pick up speed–

Colby wasn't just breathing hard. He was wheezing, close to hyperventilating.

The front door slammed.

“Elton?” Brennen's voice called out.

“Living room!”

“Hey, I'm—” The footsteps came to an abrupt halt. “What the fuck?”

The sound of the door closing had shocked Elton into movement. Having maneuvred out from under Colby, he lay him down on his side.

“Get the bath going upstairs,” Elton ordered without looking over his shoulder. “Lukewarm.”

“What do you mean? Elton, what's—”

“Do as you're fucking told, Brennen!”

As the footsteps now raced upstairs, Elton gingerly lifted Colby up into his arms, his knees buckling momentarily under the dead weight. By the time he'd made it to the upstairs bathroom, his whole body was on fire from the strain in his arms and the sweat dripping out of seemingly every pore on his body.

The water was rushing out of the faucet in a deafening speed. Brennen's gaze flicked to Elton, then to Colby. Noticing his slack, queasy expression, Elton felt almost bad for him.

“He's burning up,” he explained curtly. “We need to cool him down.”

“Shouldn't we be taking him to the hospital?” Brennen asked, his voice an octave higher than normal, as Elton lowered Colby into the already half full tub.

Colby's chest was still heaving up and down from breathing too fast. His complexion resembled the porcelain white of the bathtub, accompanied by scarlet splotches high on his cheeks.

“ _You_ are the hospital.” At Brennen's incredulous expression, Elton huffed. “Before Colby passed out, he asked me to find you.”

“Find _m_ _e_? But—”

“I don't know either,” Elton snapped, turning off the faucet. “I have no fucking idea what's wrong with him. Think, Taylor, or we're calling an ambulance.”

“I—” Brennen's mouth clicked shut. He had a strange look in his eyes.

Elton watched him grab Colby's limp hand. For a moment, nothing happened and he was about to yell at Brennen—because what the hell was he doing?—when Colby's eyes flew open. His body jolted into full consciousness with a loud gasp, causing both Elton and Brennen to start in surprise.

Holding onto Brennen's hand and the edge of the tub for support, Colby sat up more, taking note of his surroundings with a slightly unfocused gaze. His face was still flushed, but not as pale as before.

“What's going on?” Colby looked down at the water and his soaked clothes. “Why am I in a bathtub?”

Elton and Brennen exchanged glances.

“It's a long story,” Elton said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a heads up: since i'm going to be away next week, i don't know when the next chapter will be up. maybe i'll get it done before leaving, but not promising anything. thank you for your support & i hope you enjoyed this chapter xx


	10. Chapter 10

“Where is everyone, anyway?” Brennen asked quietly.

They were in Colby's room. It had taken some effort on both of their parts to convince a very confused Colby to change out of his wet clothes and get to bed without asking any questions. His fever had receded, but he was still visibly exhausted. Despite his initial protests, Colby had fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow. Elton took the couch while Brennen simply sat down on the floor at Colby's side.

“Sam's with Katrina,” Elton replied in an equally low voice, “Corey and Devin are in Utah, and Aaron's visiting his family in Texas.”

Brennen looked down at his and Colby's interlaced hands. Colby's hand was warm, the skin surprisingly soft. There was a tiny mole just above his wrist.

“I'm sorry I ran off like that. Guess I got upset over what you said.”

“It's not me you should be apologizing to.” Elton sighed. “Where did you go?”

“Dunno exactly. I was walking on some street. Started to feel sick.” Brennen found himself lightly stroking Colby's hand with his thumb. “Then I, uh, passed out. Right there on the street.” A short, involuntary chuckle escaped him. “Somehow Bradlee was there. He called an ambulance and helped me out and everything.”

“Where's he now?”

“He drove me here and left. Told him I would manage. Didn't tell him anything about,” Brennen gestured vaguely with his free hand, “this.”

“Didn't think you would.”

Brennen looked up. Elton's face was impassive, his gaze directed elsewhere. Slouching against the back of the couch, he appeared relaxed, yet there was a strange glint in his eyes.

“You good, bro?” Brennen asked tentatively.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Elton turned his head, meeting his gaze. “You?”

“What?”

“You feeling okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Brennen replied, confused, “I'm fine.”

“Huh. That's interesting 'cause I remember you having actual _bruises_ on your neck the last time I saw you.” Elton narrowed his gaze. “Fainting isn't exactly a fun time either, so I'm asking you again. You feeling okay?”

“I said I'm _fine_ , bro. Honestly, I can't tell if you're concerned or—”

“Are you lying?”

“Am I—what?”

“Are you lying?” Elton repeated, his voice forcefully calm.

“No, why would I be—”

“Is this some kind of prank then?” Elton's previously stony expression morphed into a scowl. “'Cause there's no fucking way any of this is real.”

“Why—how could this be a prank?” Brennen gestured sharply in Colby's direction. “Colby's _sick_ , has been for weeks—”

“Debatable.”

Brennen stared at him in disbelief. “ _You're_ the one that took care of him!”

“No one's fever goes away just like that.”

“That's the point!” Brennen jumped up from the floor, releasing Colby's hand. “It _doesn't_. But you saw what happened—”

Elton folded his arms across his chest. “I don't know what I saw.”

“—I took his hand and he woke up, the fever was gone—”

“So you're telling me you _healed_ him?”

“No, what I'm telling you, bro, is that there's some weird shit going on here. You said it yourself, Colby's been leaving the house in the middle of the night—”

“I _told_ you,” Elton huffed, “I made that up.”

Brennen clenched his hands. “Well, I don't fucking believe you.”

Elton held his gaze. “I have no reason to lie.”

“Neither do I.”

“You seriously want me to believe that—”

“Just admit it, Elton,” Brennen snapped. “You don't know what the fuck's going on and you hate it.”

“Guys?”

Brennen turned his head so quickly he almost cricked his neck. Rubbing it gingerly, he looked down at Colby, who was now very much awake. Guilt flitted through him at the realization that they'd woken him up with their arguing. Colby propped himself up on his side, and peered at them blearily.

“Can you keep it down a little?”

“Sorry we woke you,” Elton apologized, his previous harshness gone. “How are you feeling?”

“Kinda...” Colby yawned into the crook of his arm. “Kinda hungry, actually.”

“I'll get you something to eat.” Elton shot Brennen a pointed look before leaving the room.

“So what were you guys arguing about?”

“We weren't arguing.”

_There's no way I can tell him that Elton thinks he's—we're—faking this._

“I heard raised voices.”

_It would just upset him._

“It's nothing,” Brennen lied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Don't worry about it, bro.”

Colby let out a noncommital sound. He turned back onto his back and, folding a hand behind his head, closed his eyes. Unconsciously, Brennen's gaze lingered, wandering over his features; from his bushy brows to his long lashes, down the straight line of his nose to his full lips—

“I had a dream,” Colby said suddenly, startling him out of his reverie.

Feeling his face grow hot, Brennen turned his head away. “About what?”

“You.”

Brennen stiffened.

“I don't remember all the details,” Colby continued, “but I was somewhere outside. It was really dark. And cold. I called you 'cause I was... I just called you.”

“Like,” Brennen cleared his throat, “on the phone?”

“Yeah, on the phone.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

Colby didn't answer immediately. “No.”

 _Should I_ _—_ “I remember something like that, too.”

“What do you mean?”

Brennen turned his head. Colby was watching him, his brows furrowed.

“I remember you calling me,” Brennen said, holding his gaze. “You sounded... I just knew something was wrong. But it wasn't a dream, at least I don't think it was. It's more like a distant memory, I guess. Like, it happened, but I don't remember why or what happened after that.”

Colby blinked.“I don't understand.”

Brennen thought for a moment. “What if the dream you had wasn't really a dream either? What if it's actually a memory?”

“I—”

A loud buzzing noise cut Colby off. Realizing it was his phone, Brennen plucked it out of his pocket. He briefly glanced at the caller ID—

_Huh, why's he calling me?_

—and answered the call.

“'Sup, bro?”

“ _Hey, uh, are you free tonight?”_

“Uh, yeah?”

On the other end of the line, Sam took a deep breath. _“Okay, um, how do you feel about doing a ritual for a video?”_

 

 

“Alright, we've got Colby, Katrina and Brennen here,” Sam said, pointing the camera at the people present in turns. “They volunteered to do the Midnight Game. You guys ever heard of it? Or know anything about it?”

Colby had no idea what had possessed him—or Brennen for that matter—to say yes to doing a satanic ritual in Sam's bedroom in the middle of the night; for a Youtube video of all things. And it wasn't even October yet.

“Just from your channel and stuff like that,” Colby replied with a shrug.

“Okay, so,” Brennen spoke from the armchair, “I just wanna say I _did not_ volunteer. I was asked and I felt bad for saying no, so I just said 'Okay, I'll do it'—”

Sam grinned. “So you're here against your will?”

“Kind of, Colby forced me here, too. I was like 'Yo, should I do this, it's kinda scary' and he's like 'Dude, c'mon, it's for Sam'—”

Well, Sam _did_ mention that his last couple of paranormal videos had done pretty well.

“'Cause I sleep here, dude,” Colby retorted. “And if I sleep here and I'm gonna die, then I'm gonna bring you down, too.”

Brennen rolled his eyes. “Oh, that's so nice, dude, thanks!”

“Yeah, that's the good part, guys,” Sam laughed, plopping down in his chair, “if we die, we're all gonna die together.”

Colby figured that all he had to do was keep reminding himself that this ritual was most likely just a bunch of bullshit, and nothing was going to happen.

_If it makes you feel better._

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

 

 

**THE MOST DANGEROUS GAMES: THE MIDNIGHT GAME**

 

**Players:**

  * at least 1 principal



 

**Requirements:**

  * 1 candle


  * 1 lighter or a book of matches


  * 1 piece of paper


  * 1 writing implement


  * 1 pin


  * 1 wooden door, closed


  * salt



 

**Instructions:**

The Invitation: 

  * Begin prior to midnight.


  * Write your full name—first, middle and last—on the piece of paper with your writing implement. Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in.


  * Turn off every light in your home.


  * Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder.


  * Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12 AM. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door.


  * Relight your candle immediately.



 

The Main Event: 

  * Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home.


  * Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds. If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 AM.


  * If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt. Remain inside the circle until 3:33 AM.



 

The Ending: 

  * At 3:33 AM, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game is over.



 

**Additional notes:**

The Midnight Game may be played with more than one player.

...

The Invitation welcomes an entity known as the Midnight Man inside your home. The goal of the game is to avoid meeting the Midnight Man in the dark. Continually moving about your home will make it more difficult for him to find you; should you stop moving at any point, he will catch you. Accounts differ as to what befalls players caught by the Midnight Man.

...

Indications that the Midnight Man is near include, but are not limited to the following:

  * Sudden drops in temperature.


  * The sound of a soft whisper with no discernible source.


  * The appearance of a humanoid figure within the darkness.


  * The candle going out.



…

At 3:33 AM, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game.

 **Do NOT** turn on any the lights during the game.

 **Do NOT** use a flashlight during the game.

 **Do NOT** go to sleep during the game.

 **Do NOT** use a lighter instead of a candle during the game.

 **Do NOT** use a person's blood other than your own during the game.

 **Do NOT** attempt to leave your home during the game.

 **Do NOT** attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game.

 

 

Colby placed his candle on top of the paper. _Colby Brock_ with a bright red dot in the middle.

“The last knock must occur at 12 midnight,” Sam told the camera. “We have,” he paused briefly, showing the time on his phone, “a minute and a half. Let's freaking do this.”

Colby stepped into the darkness of the hallway. Something brushed against his arm; he spun around only to see Brennen standing behind him.

“You good?” Brennen mouthed.

Colby nodded, rubbing his arm where Brennen had touched him, the skin still tingling as though there were sparks of heat simmering underneath.

“Does someone have the lighter still?”

Brennen looked over his shoulder. “Yes, sir,” he replied, showing it to Sam.

Sam and Katrina joined them in the hallway. They switched off the lights and closed the bedroom door. Sam asked Brennen to turn on the lighter, and was about to proceed to the next step—the knocking—when Katrina told them to wait.

Sam directed the camera toward her. “What?”

“Did you hear that?” Katrina whispered, gesturing to the door, or rather the room behind it.

The hairs on the back of Colby's neck stood up. The emptiness of the hallway behind him had never felt this unsettling.

He and Brennen exchanged glances. Silently, they agreed this was going to be a long three and a half hours.

 

 

...

And most importantly: **Do NOT assu** **m** **e that the** **M** **idnight** **M** **an has left your ho** **m** **e for good at the conclusion of the ga** **m** **e.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, i've been busy with school & life in general. there are also a couple of other fics i'm working on on the side, so keep an eye out for those ;) lots of love to y'all for reading this story xx
> 
>  
> 
> based on:
> 
> \- the instructions to the midnight game: https://theghostinmymachine.com/2014/03/31/the-most-dangerous-games-the-midnight-game/  
> \- THE MIDNIGHT GAME IS BACK // 3 AM CHALLENGE (the return): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-OSUEyo_EQ


	11. Chapter 11

“Ah! Ow!”

“What?”

Colby rubbed his arm. “I just burned my arm hair.”

“How do you burn your arm hair?” Sam asked, bemused, just as Brennen lunged in Colby's direction, flicking the lighter.

“Guys!” Katrina cried at the exaggerated shriek that followed.

Colby turned to Brennen, mustering a serious expression. “This is not the time to joke around.”

“Look, I'm actually scared.” Katrina rubbed her temple. “Let's just keep moving.”

“So, you're going first?” Brennen asked, grinning.

Katrina made an indignant noise. “No, I'm not going first!”

“So, what do we do?” Colby asked Sam as they followed the other two through the main hallway. Finding a lone Penny board on the floor, he stepped on it and pushed off. “Do we just look for him?”

“No,” Sam replied, “we're trying to avoid him.”

“Oh.” Admittedly, he hadn’t paid much attention to the rules of the game. “So, we always have to—”

Brennen jumped out from behind a corner with a yell. Colby gasped, stumbling off the board.

“Shoot,” Sam laughed behind them, “that scared even me _._ ”

“So, we always have to keep moving,” Colby said, shooting Brennen a pointed look. He got back onto the skateboard and rode it into the living room, leaving the others behind. “Keep on moving,” he sang to himself, “keep on moving, keep on moving...”

_Whoosh._

Colby faltered. Pulling the board to a stop, he lifted his candle higher. The feeble flame did little to help him see in the inky darkness of the room. Another gust of cold air brushed past him, causing goosebumps to erupt over his bare arms.

_Creak._

He jerked the candle in the direction of the couch. His breath hitched.

Someone—or _something_ , his brain supplied unhelpfully—was sitting on the couch. A pitch-black figure, broad and tall, with eyes like burning coals pointed straight at—

“Colby!”

Colby spun around, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sam, Brennen and Katrina had emerged from the shadows, their faces gaunt in the candlelight.

“Dude,” Brennen called out, “we have to stick together.”

“W—” Colby cleared his throat. “Why?”

“Well, if you start getting your organs ripped out,” Sam said lightly, “we'd like to be there to see it.”

“What were you even doing over there?” Katrina asked.

“I—” Colby glanced over at the couch; naturally, there was no longer anything there. “Nothing. Just skateboarding.”

“You didn't see anything over there, did you?” Sam asked, directing the camera at him.

“No.” Noticing Sam and Katrina exchange glances, Colby added, “Why?”

“We've been seeing and hearing stuff already,” Sam replied.

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just some creaks,” Brennen said quickly. “Nothing too serious.”

“And footsteps,” Katrina added, “from upstairs.”

“From Corey's and Devin's room,” Sam said. “But they're gone in Utah, so I have no idea what it could've possibly been.”

Brennen shrugged. “Maybe it's just the house settling.”

He shot Colby a meaningful glance. Of course, a few creaks had to be nothing in comparison to being literally thrown down and choked by an unseeable force.

“Maybe,” Colby agreed, still peering at the couch from the corner of his eye. “It's definitely strange though. You said you've been seeing stuff, too?”

“Well, I haven't seen anything, but...” Sam trailed off, turning to his girlfriend.

“I thought I saw eyes,” Katrina said, fiddling with her candle. “Only for a moment though.”

Something tightened in Colby's chest. Had she...?

“Shouldn't we keep moving?” Brennen piped up.

“Yeah, you're right.” Sam's eyes widened. “Crap, we still have to get the salt.”

“Then let's go to the kitchen first,” Katrina said.

“Colby?”

“Yeah, coming.”

Colby went to walk next to Brennen, slowed his step a little when the other did as well.

“You good, bro?” Brennen whispered. Apparently not convinced by the nod he received in return, he queried, “You saw something over there, didn't you?”

“No, I didn't see anything.”

Brennen huffed. “Bro, c'mon. I saw the look on your face.”

“Dude, believe me, it was—”

“Guys, we have to stick together!” Katrina called out; she and Sam were already quite a bit ahead of them.

“It was nothing,” Colby mumbled to Brennen and quickened his step, not giving the other a chance to press the subject.

They were still early in the game; it couldn't have been longer than twenty minutes since they'd started it. Wandering around in a large, mostly empty house in the middle of the night with only a candle as a light source was scary, sure, but it was all still just a _game_. The Midnight Man was nothing more than some internet bogeyman, created to scare gullible kids, not an actual _demon_ that they'd summoned by pricking their fingers and knocking on the door twenty-two times. There was simply no way that—

_Colby Brock._

Colby glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

He blinked. There was no one behind him.

“I said the salt's not there,” Sam said loudly.

“No, I—” Colby realized the other three were gathered around the kitchen island, looking around. “Wait, what do you mean the salt's not there?”

“Check the cupboards,” Katrina instructed, already opening one.

“I could've sworn it was right here,” Sam mumbled, placing the camera onto the countertop and joining her.

“Well, we have to find it.” Brennen moved around the island, even crouched briefly to inspect the floor. “Otherwise we're kinda screwed.”

“Why—” Colby took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, “why do we need the salt again?”

“For protection,” Katrina explained. “If something happens we have to make a salt circle around us.”

Sam slammed a cupboard shut. “It's not here.”

Katrina turned to him. “Well, where else could it be?”

“I don't know,” Sam huffed, “I know for a fact that we have salt. I even bought extra just in case.”

Brennen turned to Colby. “Colby, do you—” His eyes widened. “Bro, you're bleeding.”

Suddenly, everyone's eyes were zeroed in on him. Colby lifted his hand to his nose; it came back dark, sticky and warm. He stared at the blood, confused.

“I—I didn't even realize.”

“His nose is bleeding,” Brennen said weakly. “Shit, that's not good. That's not good at all.”

Sam frowned. “Bro, are you feeling okay?”

_I didn't feel myself bleeding. Is it really my blood?_

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

“You _think_ so?” Katrina asked, unconvinced.

_It doesn't feel like it is._

“Dunno, I'm just a bit, uh, lightheaded, I guess.”

Brennen—

_How did he get over here so fast?_

—placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should sit down, bro.”

Brennen's touch scorched a hole into the thin fabric of Colby's shirt, searing through skin, muscle and bone. The fog in his head cleared abruptly, and, with a gasp, he returned to the present—the darkness, the yellow candlelight and the faces riddled with worry.

“We have to keep moving though,” Sam said, although hesitantly.

“And find the salt,” Katrina added, then gestured to Colby, “'cause _that's_ not a good sign.”

“What if it's just bad timing?”

Both Brennen and Katrina opened their mouths, ready to argue with that, but Colby cut them off, “Sam's right. I'm fine.”

Brennen looked back at him. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Colby shrugged his hand off. “Let's just find the freaking—”

_Slam!_

Colby's heart jumped up in his throat, and he stumbled back as Katrina shrieked.

“YO!” Brennen yelled. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don't—” Sam fumbled, picking up the camera. “Was it the front door?”

“We—we should go look, right?” Colby stammered. “Maybe Elton or—or Aaron got home and they're messing with us, you know?”

“That—that could be it.”

They followed Sam into the main hallway. Indeed, the front door was wide open with no one standing at the threshold. All they could see were the driveway and the dim glow of the yard lights.

“Hello?” Sam called out. “Elton? Aaron?”

No response.

Next to Colby, Brennen whispered, “Dude, do you smell that?”

Colby inhaled and nearly choked. The air smelled foul—like sewer water or something rotting.

“I don't know if the camera can see that,” Sam said, inching forward, “but the door is literally wide open. And—and it doesn't make any sense 'cause that door was _locked_. We always keep that door locked.”

“Should we shut it or leave it open?” Katrina asked faintly.

“I think we should shut it,” Brennen said.

Without waiting for an answer, he went over to the door and pulled it closed.

_We are already here, Colby Brock._

Colby whipped around just as there was another deafening slam.

His breath caught in his throat.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit, was that the back door?”

“Yo, yo, yo, that's _not_ —”

“Should we go—oh shit, my light!”

“What!?”

“My light just went out! Get it, quick!”

“Oh my god, oh my god...”

“Ow! Wax, wax!”

“Yo, stop! Hold it still!”

“Ow, it's dripping on my hand! Get upstairs! Go!”

Someone seized him by the arm.

“Colby, come on!”

“Go! Get outta here!”

“Colby! Your light just went out!”

“Yo, light it, light it!”

“Shit, I can't— _fuck_ , it keeps going out!”

“Bro, come on!”

“Okay, let's go!”

“Go, go, go! Ow, _shit_ , the wax is—it's burning me.”

“What _was_ that?”

“Bro, should we just go back to your room?”

“No, it's too early, we—Colby, no!”

Colby flinched, screwing his eyes closed.

Too bright.

“You can't turn on the lights!”

“Dude, it's part of the game!”

Too loud.

Colby pressed a hand against his eyes. His face was warm and wet. The taste of metal tainted his tongue.

“What?”

“Turn—turn them back off!”

_No!_

Colby wanted to tell them—the voices—to switch on the light again, wanted to tell them to stop talking so fucking _loud_. What if _it_ heard them and followed them here?

“Wait, why can't we turn on the lights?”

“That's, like, the main rule. You can't end the game early or the Midnight Man won't leave.”

The Midnight Man... The internet bogeyman, towering in the darkness of the hallway, quiet and watchful as his glowing red eyes seemed to pierce through Colby's very soul.

“Okay, well, what do we do now?”

“We should do a salt circle, but we don't have the salt.”

“Colby? Colby, what's wrong?”

Someone—the one whose voice gleamed like the sun—touched his shoulder, gentle yet burning all the same.

“Bro, you good?”

_Colby._

His hand was pried from his face. The breath that brushed his lips was colder, drier than expected.

“Holy shit, he's got blood all over his face.”

_Open your eyes._

“Colby? Quit playing, bro, this isn't funny.”

_Come on. Don't you want to know what I look like?_

Reluctantly, Colby opened his eyes. The face looking back at him was drained of all color, framed by long, matted black hair. It bore features as delicate and feminine as porcelain yet the fire smoldering in the depths of its dark eyes was animalistic, feral even. The stench of rotting flesh hung heavy in the air.

It grinned, baring its teeth.

_Now you can see me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long :/ now that i've FINALLY finished up all of my exams, i should be able to upload more frequently :) also this story is probably gonna be fairly long because the chapters will most likely stay in the 1.5K-2K word range (for updating purposes) and there's still a lot to uncover haha. i hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos & comments!! ❤️


	12. Chapter 12

“Accounts differ as to what befalls players caught by the Midnight Man. Some claim he will induce a hallucination of your worst fear until the end of the game; others claim he will remove your organs one by one. Both outcomes are to be avoided at all cost.”

—“The Most Dangerous Games: The Midnight Game”

 

 

Colby's eyes widened minutely before rolling to the back of his head. There was a sharp cry of alarm, and Brennen lunged forward to catch the falling man in his arms. Sam was by his side in an instant, helping him lower Colby down to the floor. As the light was turned on again, Brennen did the mistake of looking at his friend's slack, ashen face.

For a split second, Brennen was back in Colby's car. The air was stifling from heat and uncertainty, every inhale leaving him short of breath.

_We'll fix this. Somehow._

“Colby!”

Brennen lifted his head to look at Colby, to look at his hunched shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. The other met his gaze with a weary smile.

_Somehow._

“Colby, can you hear me?” Sam's voice called out, frantic in worry.

Brennen blinked. One of his hands was still placed under Colby's head for support while the other lingered on his chest. Sam was on Colby's other side, lightly shaking his shoulder as he tried to get any response from him.

“Guys, I—I think we should call 911.”

He glanced to the side. Katrina was standing near the door, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as though to keep herself from running off. Her gaze wouldn't stop flitting between Colby and the hallway.

“I don't—Colby!” Sam tried again, cupping his friend's face with his hand. “Shit, this isn't—”

“He's unconscious and bleeding from the nose,” Katrina said, a distinct tremor in her voice. “What if he's, like, bleeding in the brain or—”

“No,” Sam cut her off sharply. “No, it can't—from what? He hasn't even—he hasn't even hit his head or anything.”

_I feel fine._

_Sure. You just passed out on the street and almost cracked your head open._

Brennen's hand shot up to touch his head. The moments before his collapse were muddled in his memory, tied into a thick knot of confusion. He didn't remember hitting his head on the ground, and neither had he felt any kind of pain resuming consciousness.

_I'm fine._

_Huh. That's interesting 'cause I remember you having actual_ bruises _on your neck the last time I saw you._

Brennen now felt his throat, carefully pressing down on the skin with his fingertips. He'd sneaked a glimpse of himself in the mirror already; the angry redness had faded, the smooth tan color showing no sign that last night had ever happened.

“Sam—”

“No, wait—wait just a second. Colby, bro, _c'mon_...”

The fingers of the hand cushioning Colby's head had twisted themselves in his hair. Brennen loosened his grip a little. Despite the bodily contact, despite what had happened in the bathroom earlier today—and likely numerous times before that—Colby remained pale and unmoving.

 _Why isn't it working?_ Brennen balled his other hand into a tight fist, attempting to ground himself through the pain of his fingernails digging into his palm. _Why_ _the hell_ _aren't you waking up?_

“Dude, if this is another fucking—”

_Thud!_

Their heads whipped to the door. Brennen nearly jumped out of his skin as there was another loud bang, this time just outside the bedroom. Katrina cried out, scrambling backward.

“What the—”

The light flickered. Sam's words went unfinished, and he met Brennen's gaze, his eyes bulging and mouth slightly open.

This was the part where they should run, Brennen realized. No matter how much or how little any of them believed in the paranormal, there was _so_ _m_ _ething_ in the house with them, lurking in the darkness of the hallway. He wasn't sure of its intentions, and frankly, he didn't want to stick around to find out.

“Guys,” Katrina whimpered. “Guys, what do we do? Sam?”

“I—” Sam started, but faltered.

 _Run,_ a voice inside Brennen's head urged. _Take Colby with you and go._

He glanced down. If it weren't for the blood smeared under his nose and the growing paleness of his skin, Brennen would've thought Colby was simply asleep. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, and his eyes...

“What if it's something else?”

“What do you mean, something else?”

“The game! We ended it wrong, didn't we?”

“Yeah, but—but it's just—it's not real!”

“You saw what happened!”

“Yo, guys—”

“I don't know what I saw!”

“The door freaking opened by itself and the candles—”

“It could've just been—”

“It could've just been what? _The wind_?”

“What if—what if someone's just, like, messing with us?”

“There was no one there!”

“GUYS!”

At some point, Sam had stood up; he and Katrina were almost in each other's face, both gesturing wildly as they argued. Brennen's outburst, however, had shocked them into silence, and they turned to look at him.

“Colby's not unconscious, at least not entirely.” Brennen motioned to his friend's face. “His eyes are moving like he's dreaming. What happens if the Midnight Man catches you?” he asked Sam.

“I—” Sam frowned. “Why is that important right now?”

“Well, your candle goes out,” Katrina replied instead, “and it gets cold and...” Her eyes widened, presumably having caught Brennen's train of thought. “He can give you hallucinations.”

“Hallucinations?” Sam looked at the other two in turns as though to figure out whether they were messing with him or not. “You can't be serious.”

Katrina came over to kneel down on Colby's other side.

“His eyes _are_ moving,” she noted. Her expression was troubled as she lifted her gaze, meeting Brennen's. “Do you think he saw something? Saw the—” She swallowed thickly. “Saw the Midnight Man?”

_You saw something over there, didn't you?_

The past twenty-four hours had been one the most confusing, honestly terrifying times of Brennen's life. Ever since he got home from Japan, he'd been living in a constant state of unease. It all—the moved furniture, the strange dreams, the flashes of movement out of the corner of his eye—had built up to last night, the seance in his home, and gone seriously wrong from there.

_No, I didn't see anything._

In hindsight, accepting Sam's idea to play the Midnight Game hadn't been wise on either Brennen's or Colby's part. Had it been a decision made out of ignorance or arrogance, Brennen didn't know. But finding Colby in the living room, frozen and staring seemingly at nothing, had made him realize that not only was the paranormal _real_ , but it was also capable of hurting them. The thought of admitting it out loud, now as shit had truly hit the fan, was almost as scary as the truth itself.

_Bro, c'mon. I saw the look on your face —_

—and it had felt like looking in the mirror, reminding Brennen of himself, of his own fear from last night as he'd been attacked by something unseeable, _unexplainable_. The words “ghost” and “demon”, previously repressed by the willfully skeptical part of his mind, suddenly carried much more weight than he would've liked.

“Yeah,” Brennen said finally, “I think he did.”

Katrina's breath hitched, but she didn't look away.

“You're just fucking with me, right?”

They looked up at Sam. He stood over them, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. Every muscle in his face was pulled tight, his cheeks flushed from withheld anger.

“You're fucking with me,” Sam continued, the accusation evident in his voice. “Both of you. I mean, you have to be.” A humorless huff of laughter escaped him. “'Cause this can't be real, you know?”

“Sam,” Katrina said, not unkindly, “think about what's happened—”

“Yeah, a bunch of—” Sam faltered, visibly struggling to find the right word to appease his inner turmoil. “A bunch of coincidences have happened, alright?”

Brennen shifted as an unpleasant sense of _déjà vu_ came over him. He couldn't waste time on going through the same shit with Sam as he had with Elton. They still had over two hours left of the game, and currently, they were without any protection. Colby was out cold and the Midnight Man—or whatever entity they'd invited to the house—was getting too close for comfort.

“Bro,” he said, doing his best to sound patient, “I know all of this is hard to understand. I get it, okay?” He paused briefly, making sure Sam was listening to him. “But lashing out isn't gonna help, and Colby needs us right now. We don't have the salt, so we have to find another way to protect ourselves until the game's over. Okay?”

Mentioning Colby's name must have done the trick because some of the heat in Sam's glare dissipated. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath before reopening them. The look he now gave Brennen was expectant.

“Okay. What's our plan?”

Before Brennen could reply, Katrina said, “I think I have an idea.”

 

 

Colby opened his eyes. Instinctively, he raised a hand to shield them from the light shining down on him. Had the others turned on the light again?

Startled by a sudden realization, he shot up and looked around.

He was in a forest. Countless trees, tucked closely together, towered over him. Sunlight filtered through their dense crowns, bathing the surroundings in a soft hue of green and gold. The absence of wind left the smell of moss and rainwater hanging thick in the air.

Unease settled in the pit of Colby's stomach. Hadn't he just been somewhere else? With other people? Even though he didn't remember falling asleep, Colby figured he had to be dreaming—it was the only logical explanation. But it didn't give him any clue to where he was.

_You are in Aokigahara, the Sea of Trees._

Colby's head snapped to the left. A woman was standing next to a nearby tree, watching him. She looked young, not older than twenty-five, with a small frame and long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders.

A face flashed in his memory; white as a sheet, bearing a feral grin. Colby's breath hitched, and he scuffled backward on the ground until his back hit the trunk of another tree.

_You do not have to be afraid._

Colby kept his eyes trained on the woman, his chest heaving with quick breaths. This was definitely a dream, he realized. He'd heard her speak, her voice soft and silvery, but he could've sworn her mouth hadn't moved to say the words. This simply _had to_ be a dream.

_You are right, this is a dream. But not any less real._

He pressed himself further against the tree. Could she hear his thoughts?

_Here you do not have to speak to be heard._

Here? She'd said he was in... Aokigahara. The Sea of Trees. Both of the names sounded familiar to Colby, but he couldn't place where he'd heard them before.

_Do you really not recognize this place?_

The woman stepped away from the tree, revealing a single pink ribbon tied around its trunk. It shimmered in the sunlight, innocent yet ominous all the same.

 

 

“Are you sure this will work?”

“I've seen my grandma do this a couple of times,” Finished with the pentagram, Katrina straightened up and clapped the chalk dust off her hands. “And the incantation is pretty easy, so we should be fine.”

“The incantation?” Brennen huffed, struggling to lower Colby slowly to the floor, right in the middle of the symbol.

“The words you have to say to cast the circle,” Katrina explained, distracted as she went to retrieve something from the kitchen. “Babe, help me out, please!”

When Katrina had said that she had an “idea”, neither Brennen nor Sam had expected her to come forward with an actual ritual to cast a protective circle. It had taken her quite some effort to convince the guys that no, she wasn't messing with them, and yes, she'd seen her own grandmother do it more than once, so she knew what she was doing. Despite being highly unsettled by the large pentagram now drawn in chalk on the floor, Brennen and Sam simply followed Katrina's instructions because, frankly, they didn't have any better ideas.

Katrina and Sam returned to the living room, their hands full of different objects, including a candle, a glass of water, a small bowl of dirt, two jars—one empty, the other filled with a suspicious murky liquid—and a bottle of white vinegar. Carefully, they placed them down in the center of the pentagram.

“What's all this for?” Brennen asked, bemused.

“For the four elements,” Katrina replied, gesturing to the candle, the glass, the bowl and the empty jar. She picked up the other one. “This is olive oil mixed with garlic and rosemary. All of them have protective qualities. This is going to the top point of the pentagram for Spirit.”

“Spirit?” Sam repeated, a note of unease in his voice. “We aren't summoning anything else, are we?”

“No, no. Well, kind of. I mean,” she said quickly as the other two exchanged glances, “it's for the God and Goddess. They're like these godlike spirits, I guess you could say. We need their blessing to complete the circle.”

“O—okay,” Brennen agreed, deciding not to think about it too much right now. “I mean, you know what you're doing, right?”

With a nod, Katrina proceeded to uncap the bottle of vinegar. “This is for Colby,” she explained. “I'm going to put some on his ankles, wrists and forehead. Like a pentagram, but on the body. Vinegar purifies and keeps spirits away and stuff.”

“Do you think it'll, uh, fix this?” Sam asked, gesturing vaguely in Colby's direction.

“I hope so.” Katrina gingerly poured some vinegar into her palm. “We have to do it before we cast the circle though 'cause otherwise the energy will stay inside with us and we obviously don't want that, so...”

Brennen adjusted his hold around Colby so that he was now lying against his chest. Katrina dabbed the vinegar on Colby's ankles and the inside of his wrists. On his forehead, she drew a strange symbol. Instead of elaborating, Katrina murmured something under her breath and stood up, wiping her hands clean on her jeans.

“Both of you take his hand, but leave the circle open between you,” she instructed the other two. “When I say 'So mote it be', you'll repeat after me, and I'll close the circle, okay?”

Brennen met Sam's gaze. Brennen swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded, prompting the other to do the same.

“Okay. Here goes nothing, I guess.”

Katrina took a deep breath, centering herself.

In a loud voice, she said, “Element of Water, we call upon thee to be present during this ritual. Please join us now and bless this circle.” She placed the glass of water onto the upper right point of the pentagram.

“Element of Fire,” Katrina continued, now more confidently, “we call upon thee to be present during this ritual. Please join us now and bless this circle.” She accepted the lighter from Brennen's hand and lit the candle on the lower right point of the star.

Moving in a clockwise circle, she repeated the incantation for Earth and Air, placing the bowl of dirt and the empty jar onto their respective points of the pentagram. Finally, she picked up the jar with the mixture of olive oil, garlic and rosemary in it.

“God and Goddess, we call upon thee to be present during this ritual. Please join us now and bless this circle. Protect us against all unwanted entities.” She put the jar down onto the top point of the symbol. “The circle is cast. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Brennen and Sam echoed in unison.

Katrina knelt down between them. She took either of their hands, closing the circle.

A sudden warmth surged up Brennen's arms. He jolted, his breath hitching as it quickly spread through the rest of his body. The sensation was terrifying, yet oddly soothing at the same time. Even though Brennen currently felt like he was hugging a furnace, he felt much calmer than he had before. The darkness around them didn't seem as intimidating anymore.

“What do we do now?” he asked after a moment of silence had passed.

Adjusting herself into a cross-legged position, Katrina replied, “Now we wait.”

 

 

Colby tore his gaze off the ribbon, locking it on the woman again. Although she hadn't come any closer, he was unnerved by the way she kept observing him. His eyes trailed down, noting her thin, white dress and bare feet.

Another image flitted before his eyes, this time of a figure slouched over in the darkness. While he felt grief for her, Colby couldn't smother the terror currently thumping in his ears.

 _You're the wo_ _m_ _an_ _from_ _Suicide Fo_ _rest,_ he thought, this time consciously.

 _Y_ _es,_ she confirmed.

Something jolted inside Colby at the revelation. Digging his fingers and heels into the ground, he resisted the urge to run. After all, wasn't this his chance to get answers to what was going on with him, with Brennen? He took a deep breath to steady himself.

_What's your name?_

The woman cocked her head slightly to the side. _M_ _y na_ _m_ _e is Mio._

 _Why a_ _m_ _I here?_

 _When you and your_ _friend_ _s_ _su_ _mm_ _oned the Kokkuri-san,_ Mio replied, _you opened a door to the world of the dead. You succeeded in waking_ _m_ _any of us fro_ _m_ _our rest._

 _Oh,_ Colby thought stupidly, then added, _I_ _—_ _I apologize. Were you the one talking to us then?_

_I cannot say._

A chill ran down Colby's spine. Deciding he didn't want to dwell on the implication of her answer right now, he asked, _Are you attached to_ _m_ _e and Brennen?_

_It appears to be so._

_How can we set you free?_

Mio looked up, prompting Colby to do the same. The crowns of the trees had begun to merge to swirls of green and brown with the blinding sparkle of sunlight within. An intake of breath indicated to Colby that the forest's earthy smell had faded into a dry, stale one.

 _I am afraid our time here is running out,_ Mio said, almost wistfully. _These dreams can only last so long._

As she turned to leave, Colby called, _Wait! How can I talk to you again?_

Mio stopped. She glanced at him, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

_I am certain you know the means of contacting the dead, Colby._

With that, Colby's surroundings melted away, and he was sucked into darkness. He spun around for a moment or two, unable to anchor himself to anything, until his body—if he even had one here—came to a slow stop by itself. There, in absolute nothingness, he remained floating until a voice—no, _voices_ —pierced through.

“It's three thirty-three. The game should be over.”

“Shit.”

“His eyes aren't moving anymore. Is that—is that a bad sign?”

“Colby?”

The voices, as gentle as breezes of warm wind, trailed across his skin, leaving sparks of light in their wake. Gradually, the coils of darkness gave away, and he drifted upward—

“Guys! I think he's waking up.”

“Thank god. Colby, can you hear me?”

—and out.

Colby opened his eyes. Three faces hovered over him, each crumpled from worry and exhaustion. Sam, Brennen and Katrina, his mind supplied helpfully.

“What—what happened?” he croaked.

“You passed out,” Brennen replied, helping him sit up.

Katrina passed Colby a glass of water. Brennen steadied his hand with his own as he drank, not letting him gulp it down too quickly. His other hand rested on Colby's shoulder, warm and grounding.

“Thanks,” Colby sighed gratefully, handing the now empty glass back to Katrina.

“How are you feeling?”

Colby met Sam's gaze. With red-rimmed and bleary eyes, he was eyeing him with a seriousness Colby couldn't place.

“Uh, better,” he replied, stifling a grimace as the back of his head started to pound.

“What's the last thing you remember?” Katrina asked.

“I—” Colby faltered, straining his memory. “I, uh, remember we were downstairs. The front... and the back door both opened on their own, right?”

Katrina exchanged glances with Sam. “Do you remember anything after that?”

“No, not really,” Colby admitted, albeit reluctantly.

“Well,” Katrina continued, interlacing her hands on her lap, “after _that_ happened, we were all pretty freaked out, so we went back to Sam's room, and you, um, turned on the light.”

“One of the main rules is to not turn on any lights,” Sam explained. “It ends the game early. I turned on the light last time, too. That's why we had to play the game twice.”

Dread crept up Colby's spine. “So, we have to play it again?”

None of them met his eye.

“Shit, I'm—” Colby swallowed heavily. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize,” Brennen said, earnest. “It wasn't your fault, bro. It's just been a long ass night for all of us.”

“That's an understatement,” Sam mumbled, causing everyone to let out a tired huff of laughter.

Colby's eyes wandered over his surroundings. They were in their dimly lit living room, in the middle of a large pentagram drawn in chalk. On each point, there was an object: a put-out candle, a glass of water, a small bowl of dirt and two jars, one empty and one containing some kind of greenish substance. The air smelled pungent, like vinegar.

“What's all this?”

“Oh,” Katrina said, following his gaze, “we had to make a protective circle around us.”

“I thought we didn't have salt,” Colby said dumbly, still taken aback by the sight.

Brennen shrugged. “We improvised.”

Colby nodded slowly. “Right.”

“Colby, did you see something back there?” Sam asked suddenly.

“Sam...” Katrina trailed off, a halfhearted admonishment in her voice.

Colby blinked, puzzled. “Back where?”

“In the living room and... in the hallway, I guess.” Sam's hands were tightly clasped together, his expression tense. “Did you see, you know, _him_?”

“Him?”

“The Midnight Man,” Brennen supplied, now more quietly.

A coldness seeped into Colby's chest at the mention of the name. Slowly, the image of a dark figure emerged from the murky haze in his mind. Tall and menacing, it loomed over him. Blinking to expel the memory from his head, Colby could only see red.

“Maybe?”

Immediately, he realized his mistake. Sam clenched his jaw, and Katrina's eyes widened, even watering a little. Brennen's hold on his shoulder tightened by a fraction.

“I—I don't know,” Colby stammered quickly. “I don't remember.”

That was even worse of an answer. Feeling his face heat up, Colby cast his eyes down. He bit back another apology.

The thing was, it wasn't that he didn't _remember_ , it was that he wasn't sure whether it had been _real_ or not. He couldn't bear sitting under the weary gazes of his friends, who had obviously gone through more than they let on, unable to give them a straight answer.

In a sense, the darkness had been much easier.

 

 

“I'm sure it can wait until the morning.”

Elton cracked an eye open. It was still dark in Amanda's bedroom, save for a faint glow of sunlight behind the curtains. Her back was turned to him as she quietly talked on the phone with someone.

“He works, like, twenty hours a day. He needs to sleep.”

Elton considered rolling over and falling back asleep. Instead, he reached over to tap Amanda. She glanced sharply over her shoulder. He motioned for her to give him the phone, which he now recognized as his.

“Gimme.” At her frown, Elton sighed. “C'mon, I'm already awake. Who is it anyway?”

Amanda measured him with a look before passing him the phone.

“It's Corey.”

Elton raised a brow in a silent question. Amanda merely shrugged in response, propping her chin on her hand to watch him. He lifted the phone to his ear.

“What's up, man?”

“ _Elton, bro,”_ Corey's voice boomed on the other end, _“I'm so sorry for_ _—_ _”_

Elton stifled a groan. “Just get to the point, please.”

“ _Okay, this is probably gonna sound weird_ —”

“The _point_ , Corey.”

“ _Okay, okay. Do you know if Sam's been summoning any demons lately?”_

Elton was sure his brain short-circuited for a moment. “I—what?”

“ _Yeah, like we did back in June,”_ Corey said casually, like he was talking about one of their TFIL trips.

“No, I—I don't think he has,” Elton said, but he sounded unsure, even to himself.

“ _Are you sure?”_

“Why are you asking me, not Sam?”

“ _He's not picking up the phone, and I need to know, bro.”_

A frantic note had crept into Corey's voice. Elton closed his eyes briefly, regretting not hanging up when he had the chance.

“Why?”

“ _Well, Devyn and I are in Utah, right. We went to this haunted pizzeria to, uh, investigate. If it's, like, haunted, ya know. The family that owns it—dude, the mom's an actual medium, it's crazy. Anyway, we were using a spirit box and—”_

“A spirit box?”

“ _It's a_ _device you can use to talk to spirit_ _s,”_ Corey explained, his words quickening with impatience. _“Basically, it scans through different radio channels, and spirits should be able to, like, manipulate it to say stuff back to you._ _And get this, bro, it said Colby's name!”_

Elton wondered if he should pinch himself.

“It said Colby's name?”

“ _Yes! At first, we thought it said 'Corey' 'cause it did that a lot, too, but then Devyn said it sounded like 'Colby', and honestly, dude, it fucking did. It fucking did.”_

Elton's knuckles ached from gripping the phone as hard as he was. This “spirit box” could be a bunch of bullshit, he reminded himself. He couldn't lose all reason because of a few strange, unusual... occurrences. And yet, the nagging feeling at the back of his mind wouldn't go away.

“Are you _sure_ it said 'Colby'?” he asked, strained.

“ _Yeah, I'm sure, bro!”_

“Did it say anything else?”

“ _I honestly don't remember, I have to look back on the footage. We just got back to our hotel. But, dude, I'm getting chills just thinking about it. Why the fuck would it say Colby's name?”_

Elton met Amanda's gaze. There must have been something on his face, visible even in the shadowy room, because she sat up with a frown.

_Just admit it, Elton. You don't know what the fuck's going on and you hate it._

“I—” Elton swallowed thickly. “I don't know, dude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for leaving you guys hanging (AGAIN), hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. tbh i've been working on this one for several days straight now (it takes me longer to write & edit cause english isn't my native language) and i think i like how it turned out. lots of love to y'all for sticking with this story & leaving kudos/comments, your support truly means the world to me. ^_^
> 
> i would like to add that everything concerning the ritual & witchcraft in general is used here quite liberally. yes, i did some research, but since i don't practice witchcraft myself, i'm not an expert and i also don't mean to offend anyone more educated on it. :)


	13. Chapter 13

“D'you want anything?”

With his chin resting in his palm, Elton glanced at Sam through splayed fingers. Sam measured him with a look, then nodded to himself and turned to switch on the coffee machine. He proceeded to the stove, where eggs and bacon were sizzling in the pan, humming a tune Elton couldn't place. Maybe it was the _clink-clank_ of dishes or the golden beams of sunlight creeping across the kitchen island, but Elton spaced out, slipping into a small pocket of tranquility that had been early mornings in their motor home back in New Zealand. Before they turned on the camera, before the air became stifled with heat and noise, the sun would light up the windows—like it was doing now—and the whirring in Elton's head would stop, just for a single breath, and he could simply _be_. Then, the gears would start rattling again, but the moment had been stored away, for times that next to nothing made sense. For times like now.

 _Clunk_.

Elton reached for the mug, filled to the brim with steaming black coffee. The first sip burned, the second kindled a familiar warmth in his gut. Opposite him, Sam dug into his breakfast—eggs, bacon _and_ heavily buttered toast, Elton noted with some bewilderment—as though he wasn't the least bit curious as to why his roommate had randomly arrived home at six in the morning, acting closed off in a way that could be described as rude. But, having known him for some time now, Sam was probably accustomed to Elton's moods and anticipated he would talk when he felt like it. Or maybe the reason for Sam's silence lay in the slump of his shoulders or the hoodie pulled haphazardly over his head or the dark circles under his eyes—

“I haven't washed the pentagram off the living room floor yet,” Sam said. He bit into his toast, which was bent under the weight of butter and egg, chewed and swallowed. Wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just so you know.”

Elton paused with the mug halfway to his mouth. “What'd you draw it with?”

“Chalk.”

Relieved that permanent marker-stained floors weren't another thing to be added to the list of damages done to the house, Elton took a languid sip of coffee. “Should come off fine, then.”

Sam's gaze slipped to the side. “Yeah.”

“Corey called me, by the way.” Elton busied his hands with tracing patterns along the mug. There was no right way to preface what he was about to say. “He asked me whether you've been, uh, summoning any demons lately.”

That pulled Sam back from wherever his mind had drifted to. “Why'd he ask you?” he asked, frowning.

“You weren't picking up the phone.”

Sam's mouth twisted, as though he knew something Elton didn't. But wished he didn't either, judging by the way his gaze dimmed. “Didn't notice. The battery's probably dead.”

Elton nodded slowly. “Right. But looks like you have.”

“Yeah.”

Had Elton told Corey to just fuck off and gone back to sleep, he would still be in bed with Amanda, oblivious to everything bothersome for another few hours. Instead, he was chatting about demons at six in the morning over coffee. Resigned to the consequences of his poor judgement, he asked, “What happened?”

Something in Sam's expression cracked. “I don't fucking know,” he breathed. “Something—” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “God, I can't even explain it.”

“Take your time.”

Sam chewed and swallowed the last bite of his food so forcefully Elton thought he might choke. “It'd just sound like bullshit to you, anyway.”

 _You'd be surprised_. “Just tell me, Sam.”

Eventually, Sam did.

 

 

“You're gonna wake her up, bro,” Brennen said, distinctly amused, when another shrill creak cut through the quiet hallway.

“It's fine.” Planting his feet firmly on the ladder, Colby craned upward to tug on the latch from a different angle. “She's a heavy sleeper.”

“You know that from personal experience?”

Colby glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but Brennen was decidedly looking elsewhere. “No,” he said honestly. “Never got that far with her. It's what Sam's told me.” With a twist of his fingers, the latch clicked, and the trapdoor to the roof cracked open. _Bingo_. “C'mon.”

Once he'd climbed out, Colby closed his eyes and turned his face toward the sun. Even though it was still early, a little past seven o'clock, the sun was already high enough to warm the roof with pale, golden-hued light. A slight breeze tickled his cheeks, carrying a tinge of exhaust and the brisk promise of a new day. Coming up here usually in the late hours of the night, it wasn't what Colby was used to, but it was nice regardless.

“Oh, damn,” Brennen said behind him. “This is dope.”

“Yeah.” Colby opened his eyes. Looking around the spacious roof, the corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “I come up here to think sometimes.”

Brennen chuckled. “That's emo, bro.”

“Part of my brand, dude,” Colby retorted good-naturedly.

Colby led the way to his usual sitting spot in a corner that now basked in sunlight, hidden from anyone looking up from below. He plopped down in a cross-legged position and fished out a mostly full pack of Marlboro Red from his pocket. Brennen watched with thinly veiled incredulity as Colby pulled out one cigarette for himself and extended the open pack toward him.

“You don't smoke,” Brennen said slowly.

“No.” Colby took out his lighter—silver, with a wolf engraved on it—and lit the cigarette between his lips. “You?” he countered with the first exhale of smoke.

“Hell no.” Brennen plucked a cigarette from the pack and leaned in for Colby to light it. “Doesn't Sam hate smoking?”

“With his whole soul.” All past arguments on the issue had been strictly hypothetical since Sam, like his parents, had never actually seen Colby smoke; Colby _could_ be careful when he wanted to. “I never smoke around him.”

“Doesn't he notice the smell?”

“And not that often.” As if to prove his point, Colby inhaled a bit too much smoke and coughed into the crook of his elbow. Grimacing, he added, “Besides, he's not the boss of me.” _He's not_ _m_ _y boyfriend._ Despite his earlier mishap, Colby sucked in a hefty lungful of smoke. _What's it to you, anyway?_

Brennen looked at him for a moment longer, then turned his head straight ahead. “Alright, bro.” His voice was calm, verging on disinterested. _Nothing_. _Absolutely nothing_.

Colby felt a sudden, unexplainable urge to smack the cigarette from Brennen's mouth. It would serve him right, looking this stupidly—

Horrified by his train of thought, he blurted, “What d'you think they're talking about?”

Colby had woken up needing to go to the bathroom. He'd climbed over Brennen, slipped past Katrina—because of course Sam was already awake, being an early bird and all—and headed out into the hallway. Hushed voices had coaxed him toward the stairs, voices he'd soon recognized to be Sam and Elton's. Sure that he'd heard his own name thrown into the conversation, Colby had retreated, gone to the bathroom and then back to his bedroom to get the cigarettes. It was a routine he sometimes followed: hide out on the roof, smoke, think, go back with a clear head. Nobody knew, and nobody had to know. But Brennen had woken up to Colby rummaging through his desk drawers, looking for a pack, and insisted on coming with him. And now, here they were.

Brennen tipped his head back and exhaled the smoke in one long, languid stream. One shoulder jerked in a noncommittal shrug. “Probably you.”

“Probably.” Colby tapped ash off his cigarette. “Could be something else, though.”

“Like what? The weather?”

Colby's mouth twisted. “Why not?”

A shadow cast over Brennen's face, contrasting the bright sunlight reflected in his eyes. With a huff, he flicked ash off his cigarette. “They don't believe us. They don't _want_ to believe us.”

“What d'you mean?”

“We're not going through this shit just for kicks, bro.”

Colby's stomach went tight. Tentatively, he asked, “They think we are?”

Brennen stiffened. “Elton does. Dunno about Sam, but...” _He probably does, too_.

Colby glanced at his hand. The cigarette had burned down to its filter, smoldering weakly between his fingers. Ash was falling onto his sweatpants. The skin of his thumb and forefinger was simmering with heat. Stinging with it. Or was it the anger from yesterday?

_Deep breath in—_

Colby put out the stub and wiped the ash off his leg. He ran a hand through his hair. The back of his head started to pound.

— _and deep breath out._

“That's what you and Elton were arguing about yesterday?”

“Yup,” Brennen replied, popping the “p”.

“We...” Colby trailed off, searching for words, then said clumsily, “We haven't really, uh, talked about yesterday either.”

Immediately, Brennen assumed an impassive expression. “There's nothing to talk about.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

As much as he wanted to just leave it at that, Colby knew he couldn't. He and Brennen had never been the type to talk heart-to-heart. Too much was trusted to fleeting glances and moments of awkward silence, left hanging in the air, unsaid. Yesterday had probably been the limit of serious conversations, but it needed pushing, now more than ever.

“You don't have to pretend.” Interlocking his fingers, Colby squeezed his hands tightly together. They felt bare without any rings. Clearing his throat, he clarified, “You don't have to pretend that everything's fine when it isn't.”

“'M not pretending,” Brennen mumbled around the butt of his cigarette.

“So, you're saying that _this—_ ” Colby gestured vaguely, not knowing how to word it, “—whatever's going on, doesn't freak you out?”

Brennen gave up on the stub, squished it out with a scowl. “Couldn't we've just smoked in peace, bro? Without talking about it?”

“No.” Colby aimed to sound firm, but it came out annoyed more than anything. “Look, dude, I'm not Elton. Or Sam. You don't have to prove anything to me 'cause I believe you, okay? I'm in the same shit as you are.” More placatingly, he added, “If we wanna fix this, we can't shut each other out.”

Brennen didn't respond. His gaze still lingered ahead, somewhere between the parapet and the sky. A rush of emotion bubbled in Colby's chest, in his throat. They'd agreed to do this together, hadn't they? Yesterday, in the car, they'd told—no, _pro_ _m_ _ised_ —each other that they'd fix this, _so_ _m_ _ehow_ —

“What if it's all just in our heads, bro?”

Colby blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Disappointment, as heavy as a rock, plummeted to the bottom of Colby's stomach. _I need you,_ he thought impulsively, in a voice he barely recognized as his own. _I need you, can't you fucking see that?_ Out loud, he said, “Too much shit's happened, dude. This can't all be just in our heads.” A memory—a tall, dark shadow and eyes like burning coals—flitted through his mind. “Last night was real.”

Detached and reluctant, “I guess,” was all Brennen replied.

_I am certain you know the means of contacting the dead, Colby._

Colby looked down at the tight clasp of his hands. The blue veins under pale, paper-thin skin appeared to pulse and strain under the effort of maintaining it. If Brennen wasn't going to help him, he would have to do this alone. _Could_ he do this alone?

_You know what you have to do._

“We should go to Suicide Bridge,” Colby heard himself say.

Of all things, _that_ made Brennen finally look at him. Colby nearly laughed; the other's expression was comically apprehensive.

“ _Why_?”

“I have a feeling,” Colby said simply and stood up.

“Wait—”

“And we're going to your place first.”

Brennen's mouth hung open for a moment, then closed. “You're _joking_ , right?” When Colby said nothing, mild horror dawned on his face. “You're not fucking joking.”

“Brennen—”

“And if I say no?” Brennen demanded.

“Dude,” Colby said as patiently as he could, “we need answers.”

“So, what, you're gonna fucking break into my place?”

Instead of assuring Brennen that no, he _wasn't_ going to do that—wasn't planning to, anyway—Colby said flippantly, “It's not like it's that difficult. You keep your spare key under the mat, bro.”

Brennen stared at him, clearly at loss for words. “I know for a fact that we caught you,” he said eventually, slow and somewhat thoughtful. “When you passed out, I mean. But _shit_ , dude, have you hit your fucking head or something?”

Colby stifled a sigh. “Are you coming or not?”

Brennen narrowed his eyes at him, quiet for long enough that Colby expected him to say no after all. Then, Brennen huffed and got up to his feet. “Fine. Can't let you go running off by yourself doing stupid shit, anyway. But you're taking those with you.” He nodded toward the pack of Marlboro's peeking out of Colby's pocket.

“You're not smoking in the car,” Colby said immediately.

Brennen rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“Good. 'Cause we're gonna use that twenty-minute drive to talk.”

“On second thought—” At the other's unimpressed glare, Brennen raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Got it. Chill out, bro.”

Colby offered a shit-eating grin in return.

_So, we've still got him._

 

 

_We are already here, Colby Brock._

“What the _fuck—_ ”

Devyn reacted quickly, catching the camera before it could tumble off the hotel bed. Corey yanked out his phone and dialed Elton's number, but stopped abruptly. His thumb hovered over the call button. Behind him, Devyn shuffled closer and propped her chin on his shoulder.

“You can tell him when we get back,” she said gently.

The colors on the screen blurred together. Corey couldn't bring himself to even blink as tears collected at the corners of his eyes.

“He's not gonna believe me.”

“If you show him the footage, he will.”

_Now you can see us._

Corey sniffed. “You think so?”

“Babe,” Devyn said, her voice soft and reassuring, yet firm, “there's no way you could've put that in. Why would you, anyway?”

 _Youtube views,_ Corey thought and almost laughed out loud. Then, with a sigh, he buried his face in one hand as the other holding the phone fell limp in his lap.

“I just—” Feeling Devyn's hand start to stroke the back of his neck, Corey swallowed to keep his voice steady. “Like, what does this mean? Did they summon something in the house? Why did it reach out to _us_?”

“I don't know, babe.” Devyn wrapped an arm around his middle, squeezing him closer. “I don't know.”

_And we can see you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after such a long hiatus, i feel bad for giving you guys just a filler chapter, but i hope you enjoyed it anyway. i was largely motivated by the comments left on the previous chapter, so thank you so much for your support. ❤❤


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